


An Alpha's Word

by Miko



Series: Full Circle [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha/Beta, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dark, Flashbacks, M/M, Masturbation, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Oral Sex, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:07:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 35,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24932011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miko/pseuds/Miko
Summary: Young gangster Jesse McCree has learned the shitty aspects of being a beta in the worst possible way. After ending up in jail for killing the Alpha who abused him, he doesn't see how he could ever come to trust one of the assholes again. He certainly never expected an Alpha as powerful as Gabriel Reyes, Commander of Blackwatch, to take an interest in him. Reyes claims he wants Jesse on his team, but how can Jesse believe he has any skill that would interest a man like that other than being beta to the man's Alpha? It's still a better deal than being in jail, so he'll take it, but he has no intention of ever letting his guard down.The last thing Gabriel Reyes wants is to end up with an emotionally fragile, needy beta clinging to him, but he can see the startling potential in Jesse McCree and wants the young man for his team. Besides,somebodyhas to teach the beta that not every Alpha wants to torment any submissive that crosses their path. Just because he's nice to the kid doesn't mean they'll end up in a relationship - or worse, bonding. He can show McCree the worth of a good Alpha's word, without letting emotions get involved.Surely they can keep it professional. What can go wrong?
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Reaper | Gabriel Reyes
Series: Full Circle [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1666282
Comments: 31
Kudos: 140





	1. Chapter 1

The town of Deadlock might as well have been named Dead End, as far as Gabriel Reyes was concerned. It was an armpit of a place, in the ass end of nowhere, and the best thing about it was the laugh he got when that particular description passed through his mind. But it had a fuel station, and it had a diner, and it was no worse than any other place he could have stopped along this desolate highway.

To his shock, the food at the diner wasn't half bad. It was a greasy spoon, no question, but at least the grease was tasty. He'd had far worse hamburgers, many of them in Overwatch cafeterias, though unfortunately the coffee tasted like boiled dirt. This wasn't the worst undercover recon job he'd ever been on, but until he reached his destination, it was definitely one of the most boring. He was in no hurry to get his dilapidated fossil-fuel burning truck back on the road.

Gabe was lingering over a slice of peach pie when three youths came tromping in, boot soles and spurs ringing loudly against the worn linoleum. They were dressed the same as everyone else he'd seen here, like extras in a low-budget Western film. These three had a new addition; vests and jackets with heavily embroidered designs on the back, elaborate enough to have cost somebody a pretty penny.

Though he gave no outward sign of it, Gabe figuratively sat up and paid attention. He knew a gang marker when he saw one, and you didn't come by that kind of cash in a wasteland like this without violent crime of some kind. Looking closer, he spotted weapons on all three, from wicked knives to six-shooters. The weapons were poorly concealed, if any effort had been made at all, and that meant they weren't worried about being caught with them by the law.

All of that together meant he'd picked the wrong damn place to stop for lunch. Deadlock belonged to them, and if they realized who _he_ was, there might be trouble. Thankfully he was out of uniform, no hint that he belonged to Overwatch on him. Gabe was a big, imposing guy, but he knew how to keep his head down when necessary. Now he just had to hope they didn't get the bright idea to try to shake him down, or he'd be forced to teach them a lesson.

At least for the moment, they only glanced his way and then dismissed him as uninteresting, piling into a booth two spaces down. The waitress hurried over, looking nervous, and put sodas down without needing their order. Ignoring her, they settled in, talking without care for who overheard them.

"Any word on McCree's sentence?" a dark-skinned boy with scraggly scruff on his jaw asked, poking his straw at the ice in his drink.

"He's screwed bareback and bone dry," the girl replied, tossing long, shockingly white hair over her shoulder. "Judge threw the book at 'im. He won't see daylight for decades."

"Unless we break him out," a Latino kid said. "I mean, we're gonna do that, right? He's one of us."

"He _killed_ one of us," the dark boy retorted. "Tore Mateo to fuckin' pieces. We sure we _want_ McCree outta jail?"

"It was justified and you know it." The girl's red-painted lip curled in a sneer. "That rat bastard's been torturing him for months, and it was only a matter of time before Jesse fought back. He shoulda done it ages ago."

"He's a fucking beta, and he killed an Alpha," the first boy insisted. "Not just any Alpha, _his_ Alpha. That's totally messed up. If he's loco enough to do that, who knows what the fuck else he might do?"

The word 'beta' pricked Gabe's attention, and turned his eavesdropping from 'casual wariness' to 'actively paying attention'. As an Alpha himself, he was automatically interested in anything to do with ABOs, all the moreso when more than one was involved in the story.

ABOs were a minority, but not a rarity. Betas were by far the most common, and tended to be looked down upon by Alphas and normal humans as weak, both physically and in terms of will. Gabriel had known betas who fit neither description; being susceptible to a biological imperative to obey someone with a particular set of pheromones didn't automatically make you a pushover.

But for a beta to attack and kill an Alpha? That was all but unheard of. For one to kill an Alpha he was _bonded_ to? No way in hell. A bonded beta had protection from being forced to follow the orders of other Alphas, but the trade-off was a near pathological need to make their bonded Alpha happy.

Gabriel had never had any interest in that kind of commitment and responsibility. He'd sooner put a ring on his finger than bond with an emotionally needy beta, and that was saying something.

"We'll break him out eventually," the girl said. Her tone was implacable, a clear order that she expected to be obeyed without question. Gabriel couldn't scent any hint of Alpha on her, and she looked old enough that she'd surely have started to manifest by now. But if he'd been watching her on a video screen instead of a few feet away in person, he'd have bet his next paycheque she was an Alpha. She'd definitely learned some of the tricks of command from observing one.

"Ashe..." the dark boy looked like he was thinking about protesting, but she gave him a sharp look and he subsided.

"Jesse McCree is as loyal as they come, and that's a hard quality to find in these parts," the girl, Ashe, said. Her voice was quiet now, but still firm, and Gabe had a feeling that was a dangerous sign from her. "He's one of our founding members, and he got fucked over by Mateo. Frankly, the three of us oughtta never let it go on so long."

She paused, and both boys looked away, unable to meet her gaze. Ashe's eyes narrowed. "If I find out either of you two had anything to do with those gang bangs Mateo claimed Jesse loved so much, there'll be hell to pay," she promised with icy fury. "You'd best only be ashamed because we were all too yellow-bellied to step up and help him. I know I am."

When neither of the others said anything, Ashe slammed down her soda like it was a shot of whiskey, and stood, tossing a coin on the table. "Lost my appetite," she drawled. "Must be the topic of conversation. And before you two forget, Jesse's sharpshooting has gotten us all out of a lot of messes. If we don't get him back, we're missing one of our strongest fighters, on top of having already lost Mateo. The other gangs smell the blood in the water; the sharks are already circling."

With that, she stormed out of the diner. The two boys were quiet for a few moments, as if waiting to see whether she'd come back, before switching topics to whining about how bitchy Ashe was. No longer interested, Gabe tuned them out.

None of this should matter to him. It was none of his damn business, and he was on a mission. Yeah, he was his own boss and he had leeway on how long the recon could take, but that didn't mean he should be kicking around this backwater dirthole. So what if a beta had found the guts and fortitude to stand up to an Alpha who was abusing him? So what if the guy was a decent shot? So what if he was the kind of scumbag who believed in honour among thieves, and maybe wasn't such a scumbag at all?

Gabriel grimaced at the scattered crumbs that were all that remained of his pie. Gutsy, loyal, and capable were exactly the descriptions of the type of people he needed in Blackwatch. The split-off from Overwatch was still in its infancy, and right now Gabriel was in charge of a whole lot of nothing, but he was actively recruiting every chance he got. 

The problem was that the type of bright, shiny, self-righteous idealists who were attracted to what Overwatch stood for tended to turn their noses up when it came to the real dirty work. Or else they were little better than thugs, the sort of assholes who went into the military because they loved the power it gave them, and the last thing Gabe wanted to do was hand _that_ kind the power to work with fewer restrictions on how many rules they had to follow.

Maybe a down-on-his-luck criminal with a code was exactly who Gabe needed to be looking at. 

Leaving the diner, he started doing a different kind of recon. A few dropped comments about the 'recent uproar over a local criminal' had the gossips at the fuel station more than willing to expound on Jesse McCree and his doings. 

It turned out that while residents of the town feared the Deadlock Rebels, they were also bizarrely proud of their homegrown criminals and how well the gang was doing. They had a reputation for fighting hard and dirty when necessary, but rarely starting those battles. They targeted banks and trains and museums, not the poor and downtrodden local inhabitants. They'd corralled the rest of the gangs in the state into a semblance of cooperation, and were generally acknowledged to be king of the hill in the area.

McCree's skill at shooting was frequently mentioned. "Boy can shoot the center out of a coin in the air at fifty paces," one man stated, and the others nodded eagerly. 

Now thoroughly intrigued, Gabriel checked himself into the run-down old inn and settled down to some online research. The nearest town large enough to have a local paper was some distance away, but since it was also the nearest town large enough to have a courthouse and long-term jail, they'd covered the story of the young man's trial.

He was nineteen, so he'd been tried as an adult. Gabriel had expected from the overheard comments that it would be a case of one-on-one violence, but it turned out that while McCree had only killed one man, he'd attacked and injured several others. The dead body had multiple vicious stab wounds, most of them post-mortem. Probably the first stab to the heart had killed him, but McCree had wanted to be _very_ sure he was dead, and then probably took some revenge while he was at it.

He'd been convicted on all counts, murder and assault, and the judge had indeed thrown the book at him. One particular quote from the sentencing caught Gabriel’s attention. 

_’It would not be in the best interest of a peaceful society for betas to have license to commit such acts against their Alphas. Acts such as those committed by the accused, if they were not firmly discouraged and became more widespread, would upset the public good.’_

Because god forbid the public be disturbed by betas thinking they had any right to defend themselves against the abuse of an Alpha. Gabriel snarled and had to fight the urge to throw the datapad into the wall from sheer fury when he read the words. Probably the judge had been an Alpha himself, and outraged by the idea of being attacked by a 'mere' beta.

The article also made certain to repeatedly mention that all the victims had been found in the nude, with evidence of sexual activity. No mention of signs that McCree had been raped, but Gabriel was willing to believe Ashe on that count. 

Normal people loved to buy into the rumours of wild orgies among ABOs, the idea that they couldn't touch each other without being driven mad with the need for sex. More than that, most people believed that betas were submissive because they _liked_ being forced, being ordered by Alphas, and even the most debased of acts were therefore things they participated in willingly.

That was bullshit victim blaming, but it was such 'common knowledge' that it was almost impossible to combat. Gabriel had stopped trying to correct ignorance a long time ago. If this kid was strong-willed enough to have fought and killed his bonded Alpha, he was no pushover. And clearly, he hadn't been willing.

In the morning, Gabriel moved on, because the mission came first and he'd already delayed a day longer than he should have. But McCree stayed on his mind even after he'd returned to Headquarters. He didn't mention his thoughts to Jack, because Morrison was a by-the-book goody-goody and would be appalled by the idea of recruiting a murderous kid out of jail. Which was exactly why he'd been promoted to head of Overwatch even though Gabriel had led the first Overwatch strike team; the brass could count on Jack to follow the rules, and they could count on Gabriel _not_ to.

It took a week to make all the necessary arrangements, but finally Gabriel made his way back to the ass end of nowhere. This time he was in full uniform, and flashing his shiny Overwatch badge had the prison guards falling all over themselves to help him. Gabe hadn't made up his mind yet; he needed to see just who this Jesse McCree kid was, under the crazy.

But if his gut said the kid was good, Gabriel didn't plan to leave alone.


	2. Chapter 2

They said he'd killed his Alpha. Jesse believed it; there'd certainly been more than enough evidence, what with three eye-witnesses and him found crouching over the body, brandishing the bloody knife that had been used to stab the 'victims'. He didn't remember any of it, just a haze of blood and pain and hate and rage that made the real world fade into insignificance.

He supposed he'd gone a little crazy. The shrink hired by the county said otherwise; he'd proclaimed Jesse sane and competent to stand trial, capable of understanding the consequences of his actions. Of course he understood the consequences. He just hadn't been thinking about them at the time he'd done it.

And frankly, it was almost worth it, to be free of that fucking bastard and his sick, twisted games.

 _Almost_. Because jail, as it turned out, might actually be a worse hell than living with Mateo in control of him. There was no way a judge would grant bail to one of the leaders of the Deadlock Rebels, so they'd tossed him in the cooler and left him to rot in his cell for all the long months until his trial. The moment the inmates realized Jesse was a beta, it was like having an entire _building_ of Mateos kicking him around, using him for their own pleasure.

None of them were Alphas, which meant Jesse was at least capable of fighting back, but his skills were with guns. He could punch and kick and bite, but some of these guys were bigger and stronger and definitely meaner. In the end, he always lost. 

Sometimes he thought maybe he oughta give in, let them make him their bitch the way Mateo had done, because at least it might hurt less that way. But then again, nothing Jesse did to try to placate Mateo had ever worked much, so why would it be any different here? At least if he fought, he could hang on to what few scraps of pride he had left.

In the blessed hours of solitude late at night, when he was alone except for his snoring cellmate, Jesse would huddle in the corner of his bunk and try not to give in completely to despair. He had no idea if Ashe and the others were planning a breakout, but he wouldn't blame them for leaving him here to rot. He'd turned on one of their own; Mateo was an asshole, but he was one of the Originals, the ones who'd created the gang. That was before the two of them had manifested as ABO, and Mateo realized he could control Jesse any way he liked.

He should have run off. He should have fought back sooner. He should have done a lot of things, but Jesse had done none of them, and now he was here. Trapped. Alone. Worse off than when he'd started. At least when it had only been Mateo and his sick pals, there'd been some limit to the shit inflicted on him. Mateo hadn't wanted to lose him, so he'd taken _some_ care of Jesse in the aftermath.

Worst of all was the slowly growing _need_ that clawed at Jesse from the inside, the desperate craving for Mateo's touch. He _missed_ it, sick as that was, missed it with an intensity that made him nauseous sometimes. It felt like ants crawling all over him, just under the skin, skittering over his nerves with their little feet and driving him crazy. 

Maybe Mateo had been right, all along. Maybe abuse and punishment _was_ the only thing Jesse was good for. What he was _meant_ for, what he wanted, what had turned him into a beta instead of an Alpha. 

Why else would he be sick with longing for the way it used to be, even as he hated himself for feeling that way?

The days passed in an endless haze of pain and hatred. Jesse lost track somewhere along the way. He started picking fights instead of waiting for the battles to come to him, so he'd get thrown into Solitary where at least nobody was tormenting him. The outcome of the trial surprised nobody, and this time when they locked him into his cell, he knew he was there for good. The only daylight he'd ever see again was the tiny slice visible from the exercise yard, for as long as it took him to give in to despair and end it all.

He was contemplating ways to do just that when the guards came for him one afternoon. When they unlocked the door to his cell in Solitary, Jesse looked up in surprise. Meals got shoved through the slot in the door, and it was nowhere near his allotted exercise or bathing times. He was even more puzzled when they entered with the chain-linked ankle cuffs and wrist manacles that meant they were moving him somewhere. His current stint in Solitary was supposed to last another three days.

Uneasy at the surprise change in routine, Jesse tried to put on a brave front. "Hey, boys. Didja miss me or somethin'? Don't usually see your charming mugs this time of day."

"You've got a visitor," one of the guards told him. He'd never bothered to learn their names, they were all so interchangeable. "You know the drill, McCree. Hands and feet out for the cuffs, and no funny business."

Sticking his arms and legs out so they could apply the manacles, Jesse's mind raced over the question of who the hell would come visit him. Ashe had swung by a few times, trying to keep his spirits up, but they didn't allow friends to visit when he was in Solitary. His court-appointed lawyer had booked it out of the courtroom the moment the sentence was passed, and Jesse very much doubted he'd ever see the woman again. She'd had no real interest in his case, had known from the outset they were going to lose, and was only going through the motions. Hell, she'd managed to keep him from getting the death sentence, and that was about the best he could have asked for no matter how pricey the lawyer.

So who the hell gave a rat's ass about him, and had the pull to have him brought up from Solitary? Nobody he could think of, that was for damn sure.

When Jesse shuffled into the private visitation room, the man sitting on the other side of the desk was nobody he'd ever seen before. It was a big, buff Latino guy, scarred up and intimidating. He looked more like he belonged on Jesse's side of the table, dressed in prison grey, but he wore a military-style uniform. The patch on his shoulder told Jesse everything he needed to know.

Overwatch.

Great. What the fuck had he done to draw the interest of the heroes of the world? Biting his lip, Jesse took his place in the chair and let the guard chain him to the sturdy ring bolted to the metal table. As the guard moved away, the stranger leaned forward, and Jesse caught a whiff of the guy's scent. There was no mistaking the powerful Alpha marker, just like the way Mateo had smelled, even though this guy's scent was fresh gunpowder and Mateo's had been spicy peppers.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, this could _not_ be good. There was only one reason an Alpha like this would be interested in Jesse. He cringed in his seat, keeping his head down to ensure he didn't accidentally make eye contact, trying to be as unaggressive as possible so the asshole wouldn't take offense. A desperate croon vibrated his chest and throat, the sound instinctive and uncontrollable, something Mateo had frequently mocked Jesse for. Despite the taunting, sometimes it had worked to calm Mateo out of a rage. Maybe it would do the same with this guy.

The man's eyes narrowed as he studied Jesse, cocking his head as if to better hear the croon. Then he did the one thing Jesse would never have expected... he leaned back, relaxed and lazy in his seat, and made an answering sound that harmonized with Jesse's croon.

Air caught in Jesse's throat, the croon stuttering to a stop as he jerked his head up in shock. Too late, he realized he'd made eye contact, but the Alpha didn't seem pissed about it. There _was_ anger in his expression, tightening the corners of his eyes and pressing his lips together into a thin line, but it wasn't directed at Jesse.

"It's okay, kid," the man said, his voice gruff but kind. "I'm not here to fuck with you. I just wanna talk. I'm Gabriel Reyes, a Commander in Overwatch. You've heard of us, right?"

Somehow, Jesse found his tongue. "Is there anybody who hasn't?" His voice emerged as a rasp from his dry throat, and he coughed to try to clear it. 

"Just making sure." Reyes continued to study him, and the longer he looked, the less happy he seemed by what he saw. "Christ, kid, are they not feeding you or something? You're skin and bones, and you sound like you haven't a drop of water all day."

That was the second time Reyes called him that, and Jesse scowled. "I ain't a kid," he objected. He was nineteen, yes, but he'd been through more in his short life than plenty of supposed adults ever would. He ignored the question. He ate enough to make sure they wouldn't try force-feeding him, but food held no interest. Nor did he do a lot of talking in Solitary, so of course his voice was rough.

"Sorry." Reyes surprised Jesse again with the apology, though he was grinning as he said it. "No offense meant, but you're half my age and while I'm sure you're a tough sonuvabitch and old before your time and all that, I guarantee I can match every story you've got and double down to boot."

Looking at the guy, Jesse believed him. He had that 'tough asshole' look, the darkness in his eyes that said he'd killed more people than he could count and didn't regret it. Jesse had seen that look among the older people in other gangs, and quite often here in jail. "You fought in the Omnic Crisis," he guessed. The guy looked old enough.

Reyes grunted, a sound like he was both amused and annoyed. "I built Overwatch the way you built the Deadlock Rebels, me and a handful of others. I was the first boot on the ground. So yeah, you could say I fought in the Crisis. But we're not here to talk about me."

Jesse was unnerved by the guy's claim. He'd slept through most of his history classes, before he'd dropped out of school entirely, but everyone had seen that famous image of the Overwatch Strike Team, Heroes of the Omnic Crisis. The lady holding the flag stood out in Jesse’s mind, largely because Ashe was always going on about her, but there had been the buff guy with the gun, too. Could this really be _him_?

And if so, why the _fuck_ was he interested in Jesse? "So what are we here to talk about, then? Can't imagine what I've done to catch the attention of a VIP like you."

"You killed your Alpha," Reyes replied, eyes sharp. "An Alpha I understand you were bonded to. I doubt you realize how fucking impossible that should be?"

Jesse's shoulders hunched, and he shuddered as he fought off a flood of red in his vision. There was blood, _so much blood_ , it was all over his hands and chest and even his limp dick, not to mention all over the bodies. Red, red, everywhere was red, dark and glistening and...

 _Shock_ thrilled through him, jolting his heart like he'd grabbed a live wire, but pleasant instead of painful. Gasping, Jesse tightened his hand around whatever was causing the sensation, clinging for dear life. It felt like he could breathe for the first time in months, and he sucked down great gulps of air.

"Hey!" That was the prison guard, and he sounded pissed as the door to the visitation room slammed open. "No touching!"

Touching? Who was touching? Wait, that was a hand wrapped around his wrist, with Jesse's fingers so tight around the other man's forearm he was denting the skin. So maybe they were touching, after all. When had that happened?

"Back off," Reyes snapped, and the Angry Alpha tone made Jesse whimper and croon again. Frantically he tried to obey, tugging at his hand, but Reyes wouldn't let go. Why was he ordering Jesse to do something and then refusing to allow him to comply?

"You can't touch him," the guard insisted, and Jesse heard a gun cock.

"I said back the _fuck_ off, or I'll have you up on charges of cruelty to a prisoner," Reyes snarled back. "How long's it been since you let him have contact with another ABO? Do you not understand the rules for us?"

Realizing that Reyes was growling at the guard, not at him, Jesse finally managed to stop panicking. Since it didn't seem like the guard was going to shoot, he clasped his other hand around Reyes' as well, and even leaned over to rest his cheek against the man's knuckles, trying to get as much contact as he could. That ants-crawling sensation that made him scratch his skin bloody was fading, eased somehow by the other man's touch.

"We..." The guard faltered, as if unnerved by Reyes' accusation of cruelty. Or maybe he'd just never gone face to face with an enraged Alpha before. Jesse knew from painful experience how terrifying they could be. "We don't have any other ABO prisoners here."

"Then you fucking bring one in, or you transfer him somewhere bigger." Reyes sounded like he was one short step of murdering somebody. "Christ, what the hell is wrong with you people? Look at him, he's a mess. Get out of here, I'll handle this. Do _not_ interrupt us again, and tell your warden I want a goddamn word with him when I'm done."

"Yessir." Thoroughly cowed, the guard fled the room, leaving the two of them alone. Jesse concentrated on just breathing, because that was about all he felt capable of at the moment.

"Easy, kid." Reyes' voice was low and soothing, the kindest tone Jesse could remember ever hearing. "I gotcha. You hang on as long as you need. Here." A shuffling sound, and the angle of his hand changed. Then his other hand cupped the back of Jesse's head, fingers threading through his hair, tugging to shift him from leaning on the hand to leaning on the other man's shoulder.

That made the scent a lot stronger, and Jesse instinctively nuzzled at Reyes' throat. The Alpha was making that sound again, the counterpoint to Jesse's croon, something that wasn't quite a growl but was related to one. Shuddering, Jesse leaned into him, savouring the warmth of the strong body against his.

This was like the good times with Mateo, the rare occasions when he was pleased with Jesse and rewarded him by stroking and petting him. Jesse still didn't believe there was no catch, that Reyes wasn't going to expect anything in repayment, but for now he'd cling to the good feeling and soak up as much as he could.

"Do you understand what's happening?" Reyes asked. Jesse shook his head, not looking up, and the older man sighed. "Yeah, I figured. Those bullshit rumours you've probably heard about all the crazy ABO orgies have their root in this; we _need_ contact with each other. Go too long without it, and it starts to hurt. Keep denying it, and eventually you'll go insane. Alphas go into killing rages, betas usually plunge into suicidal despair. Spent much time thinking about ways to end it all, lately?"

"Can you blame me?" Jesse didn't look up, not wanting to see censure in the man's eyes. This was yet another way betas were weak-willed, apparently.

"Not even a little bit." Reyes kept stroking him, kept making that sound. Slowly, despite himself, Jesse relaxed into the other man's embrace. The relief was so intense it was almost its own kind of pain, but he welcomed it for as long as it lasted.

Sooner or later, Reyes would get whatever the hell he came here for, and he would leave again. Maybe the prison would listen to his scolding and bring in another ABO, but even if they did, it was likely to be yet another asshole Alpha who would use and abuse Jesse for his own amusement, so was that any better than suffering from this supposed lack of touch?

Some time later, Jesse finally stirred. He'd recovered enough self-composure that it was starting to make him uncomfortable to be this vulnerable and exposed with someone whose agenda he didn't know. Pushing away, he watched Reyes' expression from the corner of his eye, waiting to see if the Alpha got mad.

Far from it, Reyes ruffled his hair and let go, moving back to his side of the table. Until that moment, Jesse hadn't realized the man had come around to crouch next to him - though of course he must have, or Jesse wouldn't have been able to reach his shoulder. No wonder the guard had been losing his shit. Or had that happened after the guard left? Everything was kind of a blur to Jesse at the moment.

"All right." Reyes folded his hands on the table, and gave Jesse a serious look. "Now that you're feeling a little better and maybe capable of coherent conversation, let's get back to the reason I'm here."

"Yeah, why _are_ you here?" Jesse tried to pretend he wasn't still shaking from the impact of that embrace - and how much he wanted to lunge across the table to get back into it. 

"Like I said, it's not every beta who could do what you did. It took guts, and determination, and a lot of willpower. It's impressive."

Jesse stared. He'd heard a lot of descriptions of what he'd done that bloody night - usually along the lines of 'vicious', 'bloodthirsty', and 'unnatural'. This was definitely the first time anyone had called it impressive. "You insane?" The words slipped out before he could filter himself, and he flinched back, expecting an angry response.

Reyes didn't budge, watching him, no more noticeably angry than he'd started. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said, steady and firm like he was swearing some kind of oath. "If you attack me for some reason, I'll defend myself, but you're not going to do that. You're no vicious killer. You were pushed past your limits, and you snapped."

Mateo wasn't the first person he'd ever killed, but Jesse wasn't dumb enough to admit that while sitting in a prison, no doubt being recorded. Not that they could add much more to his sentence; he was already going to be old and grey before he ever had any hope of being considered for parole. But Mateo was certainly the only one he'd killed in anger, rather than a gang fight or street brawl that got out of hand. 

"What do you _want_ with me?" Jesse insisted, not even caring that making a demand of an Alpha could be dangerous. So far Reyes seemed pretty easy-going, and all this dancing around the subject was driving him crazy.

Reyes made a sound of annoyance, but it seemed self-directed. "I'm not explaining this well. I'm building a team. Not the usual kind of team, but the kind that can do the work that needs to get done. Who're willing to get their hands dirty, if that's what it takes to protect the world. I don't want bullies, because they'll take advantage of that sort of carte blanche to hurt people instead of helping them. I don't want heroes, because they'll balk when the rubber hits the road. That leaves me with a vanishingly small pool to draw from in the grey area in between. I think you fall into that category. Do you?"

Did he? Jesse opened his mouth to deny it, couldn't find any words, and shut it again. He was no goody-two-shoes protector of the world... but that was what Reyes said he _wasn't_ looking for. "You're talking about black ops kinda stuff, ain't you."

"Certainly not." Reyes' tone was mild, and his gaze pointedly flicked to the camera in the corner, the red light blinking above indicating it was on and recording. "Overwatch has no black ops division, and we never will."

Meaning he didn't want to admit to its existence, any more than Jesse wanted to confess to having killed people in the past. Chewing his lip, Jesse considered it. He shouldn't be so tempted. There was the gang to consider; Ashe in particular would _never_ forgive him if he went running off to join the law, of all the crazy stunts. 

Would they even want him back, after what he'd done? Ashe swore up and down that she understood why Jesse had killed Mateo, but it hadn't escaped his notice that she was the only one who'd ever come to visit him. She was arguably their ultimate leader, but she wasn't the be all and end all of the gang. And if the gang wouldn't take him, where the hell else could he go?

"I... I got some conditions," Jesse said, testing the waters. He fully expected Reyes to point out that Jesse was in _no_ position to bargain, but instead the man nodded and made a 'go ahead' gesture. Now that he'd been given permission to state his terms, Jesse floundered to think of some. "I won't turn on my gang. I ain't a rat or a snitch. And I won't be your bitch. I don't care if you're an Alpha; you try to pull shit like Mateo did and control me, and I'll do you the same way I did him."

Brave words, but he was certain it was an empty threat. Reyes looked like he could pick Jesse up and snap him in half. Unlike Mateo, he would put up a fight if Jesse tried to hurt him, and he would win that fight. But if that was all Jesse had to look forward to, it would be no better than here.

Well, it would be a little better than here. He'd have _some_ freedom, and wouldn't be hurting from the lack of contact, but that was about it. Jesse wouldn't willingly put himself back into the position of being owned again.

"You're gonna have to qualify that," Reyes replied. "If you join my team, I'm your commanding officer. That means my orders had damn well better be obeyed, and I don't give a shit if you're a beta or an Alpha or a normal human. I can't _not_ give off Alpha pheromones to back up my orders, so you'll feel the compulsion to follow them."

Jesse had no idea what fere-whatsits were, but the rest of it made sense. "Orders about the job, yeah, that's reasonable. I mean, I prob'ly oughtta point out that I don't have a great record of dealing with authority, that's why I formed a gang in the first place, but I get that you'd be my leader. I'm talkin' about... personal shit." His breath caught as another memory tried to sweep him away, but he covered the lapse with a cough and managed to fight it off. "Nobody owns me. _Never_ again."

The look in Reyes' eyes was far too knowing for Jesse's liking. "I'm not interested in kicking you around, or using you for sex. Frankly, I prefer my sex partners willing, and I can have as many as I want if I care to go looking. As for the authority issues, I'm not looking for blind obedience. You can mouth off if it makes you feel better, so long as you do your job in the end."

Looking Reyes over again, Jesse could believe that the man would have no lack of willing bedmates. Yeah, he was kind of scarred-up and intimidating, but he was also buff as hell and had an air of confidence to him, rather than the arrogance of most Alphas. Maybe, if Jesse had lived a different life these last two years or so, he might even have been interested in the guy himself. As it was, Jesse was fairly certain he'd rather stick his cock in a blender than ever have sex again.

"You might regret that last bit," Jesse murmured, lips twitching in a reluctant smile. "I'm known t'be pretty damn mouthy."

Reyes chuckled. "I bet you are. One other thing to consider, though... as you just discovered, you're gonna need contact with _somebody_. If you manage to find someone else to be with, that's fine, but if not then you're going to have to deal with being touched by me. Ideally, we should be sleeping together - literally sleeping, not a euphemism for sex - but for now we'll stick to what you can handle."

Jesse would have liked to argue with that, but Reyes was right that he'd just had a painful demonstration of why he couldn't insist Reyes never lay a hand on him. "Fine," he grated out. "As long as it's on my terms, and you don't touch what I say you can't." He glared at Reyes, defying the Alpha to get mad at him for what amounted to giving an order... but the effect was somewhat ruined by the fact that he couldn't hold the eye contact for more than a few seconds.

"Your body, your rules," Reyes agreed. "As long as you're not doing harm to yourself. Whaddya say, kid? You in?"

Biting the bullet, Jesse took the plunge. "Stop calling me 'kid', and you've got yourself a deal. The name's McCree."

"All right then, McCree." Reyes stood, and held out his hand. Jesse took it, somewhat awkward because of the cuffs, and they shook on it like gentlemen. "Welcome to Blackwatch."


	3. Chapter 3

There was nothing Gabriel found quite as frustrating as getting chewed out by his best friend. The fact that said friend was also his commanding officer made the whole experience worse, not better. He lounged against the wall of Jack’s office, arms-crossed, biting his tongue as the Commander of Overwatch ranted. 

"Christ, Gabe, what the hell were you thinking?" Pacing back and forth across the other side of the room, backlit by the evening sun streaming through the windows behind him, Jack Morrison looked like someone who belonged in a superhero movie. 

He had that square-jawed, square-shouldered build that was so favoured in classic comics, and the golden good looks adored by Caucasians everywhere. He'd been muscled even before the military experiments that he'd volunteered for, and now he could throw on a Captain America suit and people would think he was the character come to life.

They used to laugh, him and Gabe, about how opposite they were. If Gabriel were a comic book character, he'd be a villain, with his dark colouring, heavy features, and especially now that his face was scarred. Not to mention the fact that he was an Alpha, and they were almost always portrayed as brutish, vicious thugs in media.

These days, they didn't laugh about much, not together. There was a wedge that had been driven between them when Jack was given leadership of Overwatch, because the brass didn't trust that Gabriel would be able to 'control his Alpha urges to make rational decisions'. That wedge got hammered a little deeper with every year that passed, as their respective duties demanded more and more of their attention. At least putting him in charge of the nascent Blackwatch meant Gabriel no longer chafed quite so hard at being the subordinate.

Except at moments like this, when Jack decided to try to chew him out. Gabe gave his friend a narrow-eyed look. "You said I could recruit anyone I thought would work well for Blackwatch," he pointed out, voice deceptively mild. The calm tone wouldn't fool Jack, who knew him far too well, but it would warn the other man that Gabe was not in the mood to be pushed around.

"I meant from within the ranks of Overwatch agents and candidates, and you know it," Jack retorted. "Not an untrained teenager with no record except a criminal one! How can you even trust him? I saw his file. What he did..."

"Was self defense," Gabriel broke in, not willing to let Jack take one more step down _that_ road. "You fucking know better than to think he was asking for it just because he was a beta and it was an Alpha abusing him. That kid was beaten and damn near broken, he flinches every time I raise my voice or get upset. He did what he had to do in order to protect himself."

Jack had stopped pacing, now standing with his desk between him and Gabriel, watching him warily. "I never said he was asking for it." This time he was the one who sounded too calm. It was the tone he used when he was trying to talk Gabriel down off what he called the 'Alpha ledge', when he thought Gabe was being unreasonably driven by his aggressive instincts.

Ready to snap at him for it, Gabe took a step forward... and only then realized he'd already covered most of the distance between him and Jack, arms uncrossed and fists ready to throw a punch, as if he would attack his friend. Shit, maybe Jack did have reason to be trying to calm him down. Taking a deep breath, Gabe forced himself to relax. "Sorry."

"You okay?" Jack's expression was nothing but concern now. "What do the latest tests say?"

"Fuck, I wish I'd never told you about the deterioration," Gabriel muttered. "Not every time I lose my temper is because of the damn experiments, you know." 

The supersoldier serum, the one he and Jack had both volunteered for during the Omnic Crisis, was destroying Gabriel by inches. Humanity had been on the verge of eradication, and desperate times led to desperate measures. Such as human trials of a drug that hadn't been anywhere near ready for that stage, a gene therapy that was only now starting to show its long term effects. 

Gabriel was one of three Alphas who'd been given the treatment, and the only one left alive after the war, but all three of them had begun to show negative interactions between the serum and their Alpha gene early on. The effect grew worse as time went on - very slowly, but it was noticeably harder to control his anger and aggression than it had been ten years ago.

In his darkest moments, he wondered if it was Jack who had ratted him out to their superiors, told them about the instability that could mean Gabriel was a bad potential candidate for the head of the vastly expanded Overwatch division. Gabe admitted the truth to his best friend long before he'd acknowledged the problem to any doctors who would have been compelled to report him. If it had been Jack, sometimes Gabriel even thought his friend had done the right thing.

Sometimes he didn't. And he hated it when Jack and Ana and anyone else who knew about it acted like every time Gabriel argued with them, it was a result of his 'condition'. Though, given the way he'd moved forward like he intended to start a fight, he couldn't really blame Jack for it this time.

He was just so fucking _pissed_ about McCree's situation, and the bullshit the kid had been through because of it. Gabriel had made sure the people he worked with closely knew better than to think of Alphas as bullies and betas as weaklings, but the rest of the world seemed determined to hold on to the prejudice, and McCree had suffered as a result. Victim blaming reached an ultimate high when betas were concerned, because so many people refused to believe the poor bastards were _unable_ to refuse an Alpha's order.

"Look, I understand why you feel sorry for the kid," Jack said, bracing his palms on the desk and leaning forward, that earnest look on his face that he was so good at. "That doesn't mean he's a good candidate for a high-level black ops team operating almost without oversight of any kind. We need good soldiers, reliable fighters. I don't want you out there in the middle of a shitstorm with someone at your back who can't be depended on!"

Until the last line, Gabriel had been ready to argue with him. But Jack's voice went tight with real concern, and it was obvious this was the true heart of his objection. Gabriel could only get so mad at his friend for wanting to make sure he came back from his missions alive.

"Jack, I need you to trust me on this." He mirrored the other man's pose, meeting his gaze eye to eye. "I've got good instincts about people and their potential. I took you under my wing and got us both through the Crisis, didn't I? The kid is a diamond in the rough. God, you should see his shooting. Give him a few months training, with some specialization lessons from Ana in sharpshooting, and he'll be the best damn agent I've got. He's loyal, he's smart, and aside from his understandable PTSD issues, he's got a good head on his shoulders."

"Yeah, aside from those," Jack snorted. 

"Oh, please," Gabriel scoffed. "Half the people in Overwatch suffer from flashbacks or other forms of battle fatigue. We don't kick them out, we help them. Speaking of which, whatever happened to that medical prodigy friend of Torbjorn's? The one who did an internship here for a summer?"

"Angela Ziegler?" Jack blinked at the seemingly random change of subject. "She's doing a fellowship at the Zurich University Hospital. Why?"

"Because she's an omega, and she's old enough to have manifested by now, plus she's around his age." Gabriel shrugged. "There literally couldn't be a better doctor to reach him through all that prickly defensiveness. Can we get her in here?"

"Actually, I've been searching for a way to get her to consider joining up with us, so that might be a good option," Jack admitted with a wry grin. "She's fucking brilliant, I want her in our medical research department, and I don't give a shit what the politicians think about her age and experience."

"Huh. That doesn't sound familiar at all," Gabriel ribbed him, grinning back. "Definitely nothing like what I just said about McCree."

"Oh, go fuck yourself," Jack said, which was his way of admitting defeat in the argument. He didn't lose the grin, though he did roll his eyes. For a few minutes, it felt like the good old days, when they were equals and inseparable best friends. "All right, fine, you can keep him. Any trouble he causes is coming down on your head, not mine. I'll see what I can do about convincing Ziegler to come in, but you are _not_ allowed to Alpha her."

"I can't turn it off like a damn light switch, Jack." Gabriel gave him the finger.

"I know that, but you can keep your distance and be careful not to push her," Jack retorted. "That's half the reason she doesn't want to join a military organization, because she doesn't like dealing with Alphas and we tend to have a higher percentage than the rest of the population. If you scare her off, I'm taking it out of your hide."

It was a reasonable thing for an omega to be concerned about, Gabriel had to admit. If betas were susceptible to the demands of an Alpha, omegas were _hardwired_ to obey. The soothing, enticing scent of an omega drew Alphas like flies to honey, too. 

Oddly enough, the tiny handful of adult omegas Gabe had met were one and all stubborn to the core and well able to stand up for themselves to normal humans. Maybe because it took that much strength of will for them to survive to adulthood without their spirit being crushed entirely. Ziegler had struck him as likely to be one of the few who would make it.

All the more reason to introduce her to Jesse, show him that being submissive by nature didn't mean you couldn't be strong in your own way. He'd clearly had that destructive kind of thinking beaten into him, that because he was a beta it meant he was weak and pitiful. Nothing Gabriel said or did could seem to convince the kid of his own strength of will, but maybe Angela could do by example what Gabriel couldn't by explanation.

"I'll behave," he promised. Jack snorted in disbelief, and Gabe's grin widened. "I _can_ , when I put my mind to it. Get me the doctor girl, and give me access to Ana for a while so I can have her train the kid. Then you'll see what I do, and you'll know I was right."

"Let's hope." Sighing, Jack pushed upright, then came around the desk and clapped Gabriel on the shoulder. "Since you're here, let's snag Ana, Rein, and Torb to grab dinner together. It's been a while. Too long."

"It has," Gabriel agreed, willingly allowing himself to be drawn toward the door. They never seemed to have time to kick back and just _be_ together, anymore. All of them had their duties, and with Overwatch now spanning the globe, those duties rarely seemed to put them in the same place at the same time. He missed his team, even as he was glad to get out from directly beneath Jack's thumb.

Hopefully, Jesse McCree would be the start of a new team for him to call family.

* * *

When he returned to the brand spanking new Blackwatch headquarters three days later, Gabriel entered the private lounge on the floor containing his office and quarters, to find McCree sprawled out face-down on the couch. He'd given the kid quarters on the same floor, even though his technical status as a cadet meant McCree should have been bunking in with the rest of the hopeful candidates in the barracks. Gabe wanted to keep a close eye on McCree, and anyway the poor bastard had been through more than enough enforced close quarters lately.

A movie played on the wide-screen holoset that covered most of one wall, and McCree's eyes were fixed on it, but Gabriel doubted he was actually seeing what was playing. The meet-cute scene wasn't the kind of thing he'd expect the kid to watch. Even if McCree had a secret love of chick flicks, there was no cause for the haunted, shadowed look in his eyes.

The moment he realized Gabriel had entered the room, McCree scrambled to his feet, though he kept his gaze on the floor. "I've got free time," he blurted out, hands clenched together. "I wasn't slacking off."

"Never said you were." Gabriel kept his voice as mild and unaccusing as he could. It was hard for him to regulate himself around McCree sometimes, because he was so _angry_ about what had been done to the kid, but he knew McCree would think the anger was aimed at _him_. "Even I'm not on duty twenty-four seven. You're allowed your off time, and you're allowed to do what you want with it."

McCree relaxed visibly, and finally lifted his eyes, though he still didn't look straight at Gabriel. "Sure seems like you're always on duty, sometimes."

"Feels like it, too," Gabriel admitted with a grimace. He threw himself down to sit at one end of the couch McCree had been occupying, trying to look as unthreatening as he could as he patted the space beside him. "C'mon, sit with me. It's been a week since you got here, you've gotta be itching for the contact."

"I'm fine," McCree muttered, the same response he'd given every other time Gabriel had offered touch. They both knew it was a lie; even now, McCree rubbed at his arms like he was trying to chase away goosebumps.

Once, during the Omnic Crisis, Gabriel had been pinned down in a bunker with a handful of others for months. As it happened, he'd been the only ABO present at the time the Bastion units overran the city and trapped them inside. They'd been on very short rations and all but starved by the time Jack and Ana brought enough reinforcements to break the siege, but it wasn't physical hunger that Gabriel had found the hardest deprivation. It was the craving for _contact_ , the effort it took not to rip his own skin off in a futile effort to ease the pain of touch starvation.

As he'd told McCree, Alphas denied contact for too long tended to snap and go on murderous rampages. If it had taken much longer to get out of there, Gabriel was chillingly certain he'd have ended up killing everyone else in a mindless rage. He'd been just about ready to break cover and run off on a solo suicide mission to prevent the worst from happening. He still had nightmares about it, sometimes.

McCree had been alone at least that long. As traumatized as he'd been by so much unwanted touch from his Alpha and others, it was understandable that he'd want to avoid it at all costs now, but that didn't mean Gabriel could let it slide forever. He didn't _want_ to make an order of it, didn't want to force that on the kid like his bastard old Alpha had, but it was starting to look like he might not have much choice.

"McCree." He kept his voice level, his gaze steady, knowing McCree would be watching out of the corner of his eyes for Gabe's reaction. "I told you that first day, you're going to have to deal with some contact with me. I know for a fact you haven't found anyone else to be with, so you need to suck it up and sit down with me for a while. We'll watch the movie, both relax for a while, no big deal."

"How can you be so sure?" McCree asked, challenging him even though it made his hands tremble. "Maybe I've made other ABO friends here, you don't know."

"For one thing, there aren't any others of us at this base yet," Gabriel replied, and saw McCree's shoulders droop. "By the time we've got a full working roster there will be at least a few, but even if you'd gone out into the city - which I know you haven't - I don't smell anyone else's scent on you. Sit down, already." The last words came out sharper than he'd meant them to, close to an order, and he saw McCree flinch away. Sighing, Gabriel forced himself to add, "Please."

Asking nicely instead of making demands was something Alpha children had to be forcibly taught. 'Please' was a dirty word for them, used grudgingly under extreme duress, because it felt too much like begging. Pity McCree didn't understand how much effort Gabriel was making to try to appease him.

With clear reluctance, McCree approached the couch. When he dropped down to sit beside Gabriel, his shoulders were hunched and he looked absolutely miserable. Sighing, Gabriel hooked his right arm around the younger man's shoulders. The ever-present cowboy hat prevented him from urging McCree to lay his head on Gabe's shoulder, so he wrapped his hand around the back of the kid's neck, squeezing gently.

McCree went very still at the touch, and for a moment Gabriel thought he'd miscalculated and done something that would scare him. Then the kid all but melted against Gabriel's side, hat getting knocked off after all as he buried his face in the junction of Gabe's neck and shoulder. McCree's right hand crept up to fist in Gabe's shirt, clinging tight, and his moan of relief would have done any porn star proud.

Sternly, Gabriel ordered his suddenly interested cock to ignore that last part. Yeah, the kid was hot, when he wasn't jumping away like a scared rabbit from the big bad wolf, but he was also firmly off limits. Gabriel had been truthful when he'd told McCree that he was only interested in willing sexual partners. It was just that his dick really wished McCree was willing.

Thankfully, his dick didn't rule him any more than his Alpha instincts did, so Gabriel simply squeezed his hand a little harder around McCree’s nape, since the beta seemed to like the hold. It was a dominating touch, but betas often found that kind of thing pleasant and relaxing, when they weren't already running scared. His previous Alpha must not have ever used this particular hold on him, so he had no bad associations.

"Easy," Gabriel murmured, feeling the way McCree shivered against him. "You're in control of this. It stops when you say stop, and goes no further than you want it to. Okay?"

"Bullshit," McCree replied, his voice hoarse. "That ain't how it works. Alphas give the orders, and betas obey."

"A _good_ Alpha only gives orders he or she knows their beta will enjoy, or which are necessary for their health and safety," Gabriel said. "I know you don't have a lot of experience with that type, but there are a few of us out there, I promise. Just like a normal person can be an abusive asshole, or a loving partner. You probably know some dickheads who aren't ABO, right?" McCree's snort was answer enough. "Well, there you go. You probably also know a few decent people, too. They're not all the same, and neither are we."

"Ain't had a lot of experience with 'decent', whether they're ABO or not." McCree's shivers finally eased, though his death grip on Gabe's shirt remained, like he thought Gabe might snatch this away from him.

"Well, you'll meet a few of them here, with any luck." Gabriel squeezed the back of his neck again, trying to reassure the kid that he wasn't going anywhere. "And if you meet any of the assholes, ABO or otherwise, I want to hear about it. Anybody tries to take advantage of you for being a beta, they either need some serious ethics training or they need to be kicked the fuck out of Blackwatch. I'm walking a fine line here, and I don't want any bullies."

"Or heroes," McCree said, echoing Gabe's words to him in the prison. "I remember. But... would you really kick 'em out just for being a dick to me?"

" _Just_ for being a dick? No." Gabriel chuckled. "Otherwise I'd probably have to fire myself first; been told more than once that I'm an asshole. I can't force people to respect you, and I can't undo generations of bullshit beliefs about betas being weak. But if any of them _force_ you, that's a different story. I want to hear about anything like that, understand me?"

"What if they order me not to tell you?"

That was a real consideration, and a thing the asshole Alphas often learned to do early on. Finally releasing his grip on McCree's neck, Gabriel stroked his hand through the kid's hair instead. He'd honestly expected it to be greasy, but the brown strands were clean and soft beneath his callused fingers. 

"See, here’s the thing. A beta _can_ fight against an Alpha's orders. It's incredibly difficult, to the point that most of the time it's impossible, or it _feels_ impossible. But as you've learned, if you need to bad enough and you have a strong enough will, you can find a way around it. You've already proven you have one hell of a strong will, and chances are good the Alpha isn't going to word his order carefully enough. If they order you not to tell anybody, well, maybe you write it out in a journal and then ask Athena to give me access to it. Maybe you ask me to countermand any other orders you're under - at worst that'll tell me _somebody_ did _something_ to you, and chances are I'll be more dominant than whoever they are, enough to countermand their order."

"You can do that?" McCree looked up at him, startled and hopeful. The list of ways he might get around an order without having to directly fight the Alpha seemed to have gotten him thinking along the right tracks, at least. "Order me to ignore somebody else's order?"

"Sometimes. Like I said, depends on the relative dominance involved. Not all Alphas are equal, and we've got our own hierarchy. Plus if I'm right in front of you with my pheromones reinforcing my order, and they're not, that gives me a boost. That's why having a bond protects a beta from having to follow orders from anybody else. The bond means their Alpha is always the 'most dominant' where they're concerned, and the way a bonded pair's scents mingle means the beta always has his or her Alpha's pheromones with them."

"It does?" McCree's expression turned thoughtful. "I guess maybe I can see why someone would _want_ a bond, then. Never made any sense to me, but I suppose if you trusted the Alpha enough..." He grimaced and shook his head. "Don't think I'd ever be able to trust a body that much, though."

"There's one more thing to consider. It sounds like your bond wasn't entirely willing. You were clearly badly abused by that asshole." Gabriel stroked his hair again, letting a reassuring rumble fill his chest when McCree's shoulder hunched. "Most people don't know this, but a bond _can_ be forced sometimes. Kind of like Stockholm syndrome."

"It wasn't always bad." McCree's voice was so soft and wretched, Gabriel had to strain to hear him. "When it started, things were good. We were just teenagers messin' around, Mateo was hot as hell, and I... I _did_ like it. When he, you know..."

"Was dominant in bed?" Gabe took a guess. Most young ABOs did show personality signs of what they would be, and could begin to manifest as early as fifteen or sixteen. It was natural for a beta to be drawn to a dominant personality. Hell, that Ashe girl had probably been a big draw for McCree too, even if she wasn't actually an Alpha. "That's normal, McCree. Most abusers know how to be charming, to lure their victims in. Maybe he never intended for things to get that bad, but it went down a rabbit hole because neither of you understood enough to control what your instincts were doing to you."

"Yeah, that's kinda what it felt like," McCree admitted. "So I guess maybe it was willin' to start. Then Mateo realized how _much_ he liked it that I couldn't tell him no, and started pushing the line further and further, and things got bad. Then they got real bad, and then they got worse. But everyone kept sayin' that if I _really_ didn't want it, I'd have found the spine to say no, and I wondered if they were right. You basically just said the same thing..."

" _No_ , I didn't," Gabriel interrupted him firmly. "I said that it can be possible to fight back sometimes, for some people, but that it can feel impossible. And there's a difference between wanting something despite yourself, or struggling to resist an order but failing. Sounds like you tried to resist and failed, once things got bad." 

He paused, but McCree said nothing. Gabe wasn't sure if it was a thoughtful silence, or a wordless denial of what Gabe was trying to tell him. Cautiously, Gabe continued, since McCree hadn't yet actively pulled away from the subject. "I heard about the... sharing." He changed his word from 'gang-bangs' at the last second, figuring that would be kind of insensitive. "I gather that went on a while, and I'm guessing he'd been hurting you in other ways for a while, too. What pushed you over the edge?"

"He handed me a knife and told me to cut myself." McCree's voice was eerily flat, with none of the emotion that should have accompanied such a chilling statement. When Gabriel checked the younger man's expression, McCree looked just as blank as he sounded. He had a thousand-yard stare, the kind soldiers got when they were trapped in battles of the past. "Don't rightly recall what happened after that. Just... a lot of blood."

Gabriel bit back a curse, not wanting McCree to think he was angry with the beta instead of angry on the kid's behalf. What the fuck was wrong with the jury that sat the kid's trial? Yeah, McCree's attack had been vicious and extensive, and that was something that often pushed things out of 'self-defense' territory from the law's perspective. But hell, when a person had been hurt _that_ much, pushed _that_ far, it wasn't surprising they'd go a little crazy trying to make sure the person who'd hurt them so bad could never do it again.

Gabe couldn't change the law, and he couldn't change the past. All he could do was try to help McCree in the present. Sighing, he stroked the beta's hair again, and let the rumble of reassurance fill his voice. "It's over now. You're safe, and I promise I'll do everything in my power to help you make sure nothing like that ever happens again.”

If only it were that easy to brush away the trauma of the past. Things like that were never truly 'over'.


	4. Chapter 4

Jesse dragged his feet as he followed Reyes into the medical wing of the Overwatch headquarters. This was the first time he'd left the Blackwatch base - practically the first time he'd left his and Reyes' quarters, except for training. It felt like everyone was staring at him and whispering behind their hands. 

He knew he didn't look like he belonged here. He didn't _feel_ like he belonged here. Too young, too scruffy, too _weak_. Surrounded by all these men and women who'd distinguished themselves in militaries and police forces all over the world, Jesse was nothing but a delinquent kid.

Worse, he was certain this wasn't going to be a plain old medical checkup. Jesse had already been through a very thorough examination by the Blackwatch doc. Aside from bad nutrition from not eating much in prison, they hadn't found a thing wrong with him, so there was no reason for him to be going for another exam now. A 'specialist', was all Reyes had said. Jesse was pretty sure that meant it was going to be a head-shrink.

He'd known from the start that they'd probably make him do some kind of hippy-dippy counselling, talk about his feelings and all that. He'd hoped they'd let him put it off a little longer, though. Preferably a _lot_ longer. Jesse wasn't much of one for touchy-feely crap. Never had been, but he especially didn't want to have to tell some well-meaning, clueless counsellor about the hell he'd been through. 

He really, _really_ didn't want to see them judging him for being weak because of it. And no matter how many times people told him shrinks didn't judge, he knew that was bullshit. They were human, they had prejudices and biases like anyone else. And aside from Reyes and maybe Ashe, Jesse had never met anyone who didn't believe betas were... _lesser_.

Reyes stopped in front of an unmarked door and knocked briskly. A feminine voice answered. "Come in." Pushing the door open, Reyes gestured for Jesse to precede him. Reluctantly Jesse stepped inside, doing a wary recon of the room.

There was only one way in or out, not even a window. One person inside, the woman - girl, really - who'd invited them in. She looked about Jesse's age, but she wore a lab coat and had a badge clipped to her pocket that identified her as 'civilian consultant Dr. Ziegler'. Civilian consultant? What, had they brought in some kind of ABO specialist counsellor?

Then the scent hit him, sweet caramel that wrapped around him and sucked him in. He took three steps into the room before he forced himself to stop, and even then he couldn't keep from leaning toward her in longing. There was something... _something_ about her... "What the hell are you?"

Her smile turned crooked. "Hello, Jesse. It's nice to meet you. My name is Angela. Why don't you come in and sit down? Commander, you can close the door... on your way out, please," she added when Reyes started to step further inside. Though she looked in Reyes' general direction, Jesse realized the doctor wasn't quite meeting the Commander's eyes. "This is meant to be a private session. He doesn't seem young enough to require a guardian to be present." There was a dry edge to her humour.

"Of course not." Reyes shook his head, but made no move to leave. "Surely it would help if I..."

"You promised." Angela's tone turned sharp, and her eyes narrowed. "Commander Morrison assured me you'd keep your distance."

"For god's sake, I'm not going to hurt you or order you around, doc." Gabriel's scent took on an aggressive note, and Jesse flinched. "Just because I'm an Alpha doesn't make me one of the bad guys. Isn't that exactly what you're here to help McCree understand?"

"I'm here supposedly to help him understand that _not_ being an Alpha doesn't make _him_ a natural victim," Angela retorted. For all that she kept her body language submissive like any beta faced with an upset Alpha, her tone promised she wouldn't back down. "Help me prove both points by respecting my request, if you please."

For another tense moment Jesse thought Reyes was going to refuse on principle. Then he blew out a hard breath and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah. Sorry. Come find me when you're done, McCree. I'll probably be in Morrison's office."

"Sure thing, Boss," Jesse agreed. Anything to get the Alpha to back off and stop being angry - even though the mere thought of _him_ knocking on the door of the Commander of all of Overwatch made his guts turn to water.

Reyes looked like he was going to say something more, maybe in response to Jesse's too-hasty agreement. But another pointed look from the doc made him back off, and he closed the door with a firm click behind him.

Jesse stared at the girl as he took a seat across from her. "How'd you do that? Make him give in like that? I've _never_ seen an Alpha back down, not for nothin'." 

Angela's smile turned crooked again. "There's a trick to handling Alphas, making certain that you're not giving an order, while still maintaining it as a firm suggestion. With most, it helps if you turn their refusal around on them, nudge their protective instincts into wanting to do what you've asked. Body language is also important, to ensure they don't see it as a challenge."

"What protective instincts?" Jesse snorted. But even as the words left his mouth, he doubted his usual cynicism. Hadn't he seen Reyes go all protective over him, a bunch of times now? Aggressive and angry and all the other usual Alpha crap, yeah, but in defense of Jesse, not at him. And the man _had_ made an effort to soften his behaviour towards Jesse, several times.

"There are a great many drives and urges that affect ABOs, not just the negative ones you hear about in stories" Angela leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs, hands folded on her lap. "Learning how they all interact - and yes, how to manipulate them - is a big part of being able to protect yourself as a beta. All the more so if you're an omega, like me. It's not a skill I had an option about learning, not if I wanted to remain sane and whole."

"An omega? Are you shitting me?" Jesse tipped back his hat, the better to stare at her. "I thought they were just a myth." But he noted that she looked at him without actually meeting his gaze, even though she gave the impression of doing so. Just like she had with Reyes. As if _Jesse_ was dominant to her, which could only be true if she was one of the fabled omegas.

"Not quite a myth, though we're rare enough to come close." She shrugged as if the words didn't bother her, but there was a hint of old pain in her eyes. "Most omegas commit suicide before they turn twenty. It's a difficult path to walk and still retain your individuality, and a smart omega avoids Alphas at almost any cost. When I must interact with one in my professional capacity, I make sure I have a human orderly or nurse present. Mostly I'm a medical researcher, however, not a practicing doctor so much."

"How'd you get roped into this, then?" Jesse cocked his head. "And how in hell are you old enough to be a doctor, let alone some kinda specialist?"

This time her smile held only merriment. "I'm something of a prodigy. Yes, I am as young as I look, and yes, I have my full medical degree and license to practice. Having learned to force others to respect me despite being an omega, I suppose also forcing them to respect me despite being young isn't that much additional challenge. As for why I'm here, I did an internship at Overwatch a few years back. When Jack Morrison asked me to come talk to a young beta who needed some help understanding what it _really_ means to be submissive in nature, I was happy to agree."

"You don't seem all that submissive to me," Jesse muttered. And yet the words felt like a lie, even though they were also the truth. Her averted gaze, her gentle tone, her cautious body language, all added up to say 'submissive' to his instincts. Yet at the same time she must have a forceful personality, if she was able to get people to respect her at such a young age.

"That's because you're defining it incorrectly." She cocked an eyebrow at him. "As most people do. Submissive does not mean meek, though the traits often go hand in hand. It does not mean being weak-willed; in fact I'd argue we need _more_ strength of character in many ways. It most certainly does not mean that we are willing and eager to follow _any_ order given to us. It only means our instincts compel us to."

Her words echoed some of what Reyes had told him the other night, about the difference between wanting something and being forced to comply. "So what _does_ it mean, then?" Jesse challenged her. "Where's the positive to it?"

"It means we're lacking in aggression, and don't feel any need to take control of situations. Particularly not over other people. We're happiest in a structured environment, with a clear role to fill, often one that is supportive of others in some way."

"Like being a doctor," Jesse murmured, starting to understand. A doctor held a position of authority, had to tell people what to do in order to get healthy again. But at the same time they could be said to be serving their patients. A hospital certainly counted as a structured environment.

So did a gang, for that matter. There had been a definite hierarchy, with the Originals - the founding five of them - at the top, and a pecking order even among them. And Jesse had loved that, loved being a part of something bigger, loved having _created_ something that gave other misfits a place to feel like they belonged; but he'd never felt any desire to challenge Ashe for her leadership. 

"Or being in the military," Angela pointed out. "Alphas are drawn to command positions for obvious reasons, but I'm told betas make some of the best non-commissioned officers out there. A strong-willed beta understands how to _interpret_ orders to best effect, and how to execute them, which is exactly what a sergeant does. They also have the instinct to care for those in their unit - especially those under their command. After all, betas have an instinct to protect omegas, as well, even if it's not something that often gets triggered."

There were betas in the military, not just in grunt positions but actually in charge of people? Well... Jesse had certainly led his share of heists, even if those jobs had been planned by someone like Ashe. He _was_ good at improvising when he had to, and the gang had all known that they could count on Jesse to do his best for them, so they'd followed his lead when they were told to.

For the first time, Jesse began to believe that maybe there really _was_ a place for him in Blackwatch, that Reyes hadn't been bullshitting him about that part to get Jesse to agree to come with him. It had been hard to shake the certainty that Reyes was just waiting for him to let his guard down so the Alpha could pounce, largely because Jesse couldn't imagine how else he'd be useful to the man, sharpshooter or not. 

All that talk about needing people who fell somewhere between the heroes and the villains, combined with _knowing_ Jesse would obey his orders, not go off half-cocked all the damn time... yeah, maybe it really did make some sense.

Feeling about a hundred times better about himself than he had when he'd walked in here, Jesse impulsively reached out and caught Angela's hands in his, squeezing. "Thanks, doc. Really." The sense of contact and connection that he felt touching her was similar to what he'd experienced with Reyes and Mateo, but different. Softer, gentler, sweeter.

"You're very welcome." There was a harmonic croon in her voice, similar to the one Jesse had used in the past to try to soothe Mateo, and sometimes even Reyes. For him it was instinctive, but he had a feeling she was using it deliberately. It was soothing, like her touch, like everything about her, really. She must make one hell of a doctor, with that kind of bedside manner. "I'm always happy to convert someone to the belief that submissive does not mean weak! And to make a new friend."

Friend? Jesse flushed with shy pleasure. The only friends he'd ever had were his family in the gang, and he hadn't expected to find any here. He stood out among all these highly trained agents like a sore thumb, and he knew they all looked down on him. "Ain't you worried I'd order you around and all? I mean, since betas can do that with omegas, and you seemed pretty damn wary of Reyes."

"Unlike Alphas, betas aren't unconsciously _trying_ to dominate everyone and everything around them at all times," Angela replied dryly, squeezing his hands in return. "You _could_ do that to me, but if you promise you won't, I'll be able to believe you."

"But you'd never be able to believe an Alpha," Jesse concluded. She was right, Alphas really couldn't help themselves, they tried to control everything around them all the damn time. 

"They're _not_ all bad," Angela insisted firmly. "Nor do you need to be quite as wary of them as I do. There are many, many Alpha-beta pairs out there who are happy and satisfied with their lives together. Submissives _are_ drawn to that structure and hierarchy, crave it in our personal lives as well as professional, and it's natural that betas and Alphas go together. It's a question of trust, and vulnerability."

"Yeah, don't think I'm likely to be trustin' one of 'em again," Jesse said, unable to keep the sour note out of his voice. "Reyes seems decent enough, but I'll never let anyone control me again. Not willingly."

"Remember that you don't have to _bond_ with someone to find happiness in a relationship," she told him, expression earnest. "Bonds are actually incredibly rare. Most Alpha-beta pairs spend decades together without ever forming one. There are also many humans dominant enough to satisfy our instincts without any risk of control."

Thinking of Jack Morrison, who commanded all of Overwatch and even had the respect and loyalty of an Alpha as strong as Reyes, Jesse nodded slowly. Knowing bonds weren't an automatic result of getting into a relationship with an Alpha also helped a great deal; he'd wondered how the hell any beta ever brought themselves to date Alphas, if they'd get locked into the relationship no matter how things turned out. After all, most people went through an awful lot of relationships before they found The One, if they ever did. This made a lot more sense.

Even so... "Don't reckon I'll be dating any time soon," he drawled with a grim smile. "Got a few issues to get over, first." He couldn't think of sex without remembering everything Mateo and his buddies had done to him, without a wash of red flooding his vision as the memory of all that blood caught him up and threatened to drag him under, until he thought he might drown in it...

The iron stench of blood that assaulted him was covered suddenly by the sweet scent of caramel, drawing him out of the memory. A soft croon filled the air, and when he came back to himself Jesse found he was wrapped in Angela's embrace, the omega in as much contact with him as she could be. He clung to her, only then realizing he'd fisted his hands in her lab coat. Much like the way he ended up clinging to Reyes whenever the Alpha finally pinned him down for some of that 'touch time' he insisted Jesse needed to have.

"It's all right," Angela murmured, over and over. "It's all right, Jesse, you're safe. You're safe, I promise."

From somewhere, Jesse managed to dredge up a watery chuckle. "Guess maybe I do need some of that shrink time they keep insisting I get. I'm a mess, ain't I?"

"Understandable, after everything you've been through." She stroked his hair, and seemed in no hurry to let him go. "I would strongly suggest therapy, yes. I know it probably seems like talking about your problems isn't something you want to do and can't possibly make them go away, but it _does_ help most people."

Jesse took note of that 'most', and oddly it comforted him. Everyone had been insisting that counselling _would_ help him, and he remained distrustful of the assertion. Her statement seemed more honest, and therefore believable. Maybe he'd be one of the few it didn't help... but maybe he'd be one of the 'most' that it did. He wouldn't know unless he tried.

They spent a little longer together, and Jesse soaked up her presence like a flower soaks up the sun. Was this how Alphas felt around _him_? And Christ, what did _her_ presence do to one of 'em? No wonder she was skittish of them, they were probably drawn like a horse to water after a day in the desert, and her unable to resist. Jesse would be avoiding them like the plague, too.

Which made him realize that he wasn't. Avoiding Alphas, that is. Sure, he was wary, but for all that he said he didn't trust Reyes, he'd still let the man get close. And so far, Reyes had done nothing to break that tentative, fragile trust.

As he and Reyes left the base later that day, Jesse was deep in thought. Reyes let him be, though he patted Jesse's shoulder as they boarded the transport ship, as if to reassure him. Usually Jesse sat in the drop seats of the troop section, but today he followed Reyes to the cockpit with a hesitant glance to see if it was okay for him to be there.

Reyes looked surprised, but nodded at the copilot's seat. "Don't touch anything," he warned as Jesse strapped in. "Though if you're interested in learning, we can add it to your upcoming training roster. There's other things that take precedence, but knowing how to fly one of these birds is a handy skill for anybody. Never know when your pilot might not make it back."

Him? Fly a ship like this? "Yeah, I think I'd like that," Jesse said slowly. It would give him a measure of freedom, and sure as heck showed a level of trust from Overwatch to _him_. Not that he had any illusions that he'd be allowed to just take off in a ship whenever he felt like it, but still. Even if the thought of _more_ classes made him want to groan with exhaustion, both physical and mental.

Especially since there was at least one other thing he needed to add to his packed schedule, already. "I'll do the therapy," he said abruptly, eyes fixed on the horizon as they lifted off the tarmac. "But I reserve the right to tell 'em to go to hell if they piss me off."

"Which they will," Reyes said dryly. "It's a part of the process. So long as you don't go throwing punches at them, anger is an acceptable response. And if you _really_ don't click with them, tell me and we'll get you a different doc. You don't have to just suffer through it. It's a relationship - a fucked up relationship, but it still involves some trust."

"You sound like you've been through it," Jesse said, surprised by the thought. Tough as nails Reyes didn't strike him as the type to be all touchy-feely and chatty about his emotions. He seemed more like the kind of guy to tough out the rough patches without a word to anyone.

Reyes barked a laugh. "Oh, you have no fucking idea. Once the war was mostly done and people had the spare time to start fussing about shit beyond their immediate survival, us frontline fighters got all kinds of scrutiny. And yes, mandatory therapy in most cases. PTSD's nothing to be ashamed of, kid. Happens to the best of us. Happens to a _lot_ of us, after the shit we all went through in the Omnic Crisis. Plus then there's all the examinations I get to suffer through thanks to having been part of an experimental super-soldier program. Turns out they pushed that through a little too fast out of desperation, and the few of us that survived are under close observation."

"Super-soldiers?" McCree hadn't known anything about that, but he could certainly believe it. Reyes was larger than life, too much to be real. Jesse had seen him training a few times, and had even thought to himself that the man was inhuman in speed and strength. 

"Me and Morrison, among others. That's how he and I met." Reyes shrugged. "It's not classified anymore, and honestly not that big a damn deal. Just that in my case it ramps up the Alpha a little too much, sometimes. I've had to make extra efforts to learn control."

A shiver worked its way down Jesse’s spine, and he had to fight not to cringe back in his seat. ‘Ramps up the Alpha’... yeah, he could all too easily see that. How often had Jesse thought to himself that Reyes was the most dominant personality that Jesse had ever seen? He’d have forced Mateo to back down in a heartbeat.

And if he had even less control than most Alphas… Jesse shivered again, hard enough to be a shudder. “Why tell me that?” Now he’d always be waiting, watching for signs Reyes was about to break down.

“Because, as closely as we’ll be working together, sooner or later you’re going to see the effects for yourself.” Reyes shrugged, a seemingly casual gesture, but his gaze was sharp on Jesse. “Better for you to know now, than panic in the heat of the moment when I do lose my temper. Just remember, most Alphas never bother to _learn_ control, except on an instinctive level. I’ve put in the effort.”

Considering that, Jesse chewed on his lower lip, wishing he had a cigar instead. He’d wanted to look as buttoned-up and professional as possible while at HQ, but now he regretted not at least bringing one with him. He’d taken up the habit because it helped calm his nerves, and he could sure use some calming right now. 

If Reyes had gone to that much effort to learn to control himself, then that meant he was _less_ likely to snap and go on a rampage than most Alphas. Didn’t it? Even when he reached a point where most Alphas would be reacting on a purely instinctive - and aggressive - level, Reyes would know how to fight that effect. 

Hell, there’d already been plenty of times Jesse had expected the man to go off on him, and been pleasantly surprised. Reyes shouted and snarled a lot, and yeah he got dominant and aggressive, but Jesse had never yet seen him be _unreasonable_ about it. And that was more than he could say about any other Alpha he’d ever met.

“Okay,” Jesse finally said. “I can handle that.” The words came out shaky, and privately he reserved the right to change his mind any time if it looked like things were going to hell. But at least for now, he meant it. 

Reyes nodded, apparently satisfied with the answer. "Speaking of control and therapy, as soon as your counsellor gives the go-ahead that it won't traumatize you further, you'll start lessons in how to resist Alphas." 

Jesse sat upright and stared at him, and Reyes grinned as he continued. "Thought that might pique your interest. Betas wouldn't be much use as field agents if any enemy Alpha could order them to turn on their squad - and it's the first thing most enemy Alphas will try. I told you, it _is_ possible to resist. You can learn techniques to manipulate your instincts, place more emphasis on orders given to you by your commanders than by the enemy, that sort of thing. It's not foolproof, but you've got more than enough willpower to excel at it, I think."

"I can learn to do that? For real? You ain't foolin' with me?" Jesse could hardly believe such a thing was possible. Yet Reyes was right that betas wouldn't be safe to send up against Alphas otherwise. And it kinda fit with what Angela had said, about being able to manipulate Alphas with their own instincts, make them back down a little. Same theory, right? "What do I need to do to get the 'go-ahead'?"

"Stay engaged, do your best to follow their instructions, and above all remember that you've already _done_ the hardest part." Reyes gave him a serious look. "You got out of there. You survived. You didn't let them break you. In the end, that's all anyone can ask."

"I didn't let them break me," Jesse repeated. "I'm here. I survived." Maybe there was something to all this talking in therapy crap after all, because saying the words made them feel just a tiny bit more real. 

"That's the spirit." Reaching over, Reyes ruffled Jesse's hair. 

The gesture felt kinda patronizing, but it also felt _good_ , so Jesse decided he'd allow it. One thing, though, he had to object to in principle. If he was going to stand up for himself, he'd better start doing so. "I ain't a kid. Never mind all that bullshit about how you're older and wiser than me. You want me to respect myself, you gotta respect me first." 

Reyes' smile contained a glint of pride. "I suppose you're right. All right, McCree. Can't promise I'll _never_ slip up, but I'll do my best. And you can scold me when I do."

Huh. That was easier than Jesse had expected. Was this what Angela meant, about turning things back on the Alpha so they thought of it as protecting him in some way, instead of giving in to him?

Maybe this wasn't so impossible, after all.

And maybe, just maybe, Reyes really was worthy of his trust.


	5. Chapter 5

Rage clouded the edges of Gabriel's vision as he stormed into his quarters. He’d heard of ‘seeing red’ but never before realized the phrase could be literal. Either people had been smart enough to stay out of his way from the hanger to here, or he straight up hadn't noticed any idiot trying to get his attention. 

"Eight _hours_ of my life wasted," he exploded the moment the door closed behind him. He was alone, McCree still out doing his training, but Gabe had to do _something_ to offload some of his anger. Since smashing up his own quarters wasn't a great idea, and he'd probably scare half the base if he went down and ripped apart some training bots like he wanted to, he was left with ranting as his only outlet. 

"Eight fucking hours of budget committees and bean counters. Assholes who've never risked their lives for a single moment, looking down their noses at me and sniffing about how I'm _wasting resources_ trying to keep my people alive! What the fuck do they expect me to do with half my requested weapons budget? Pull a miracle out of my ass made of shoestring and bubblegum?"

Fury overcame good sense after all; he grabbed the nearest solid object and flung it at the wall with all his enhanced strength. It shattered to pieces with a smash, bits of plastic and circuit boards flying every which way. The crash wasn't nearly enough to satisfy him, and he snatched up the next object on the counter. This was much more substantial, and might even manage to make a hole in the wall.

"You're gonna regret it if you throw that, tomorrow morning when you want your coffee real bad." The unexpected voice was shaky, and held the harmonic croon unique to betas, a sound meant to soothe an aggressive Alpha.

Gabe certainly fit that description at the moment, but the last thing he wanted was to be soothed. Spinning on one foot, he glared into the other half of the common area, where the entertainment unit was. McCree huddled against one arm of the couch, hands up like he was showing he was unarmed - or trying to ward off a coming blow. His eyes were wide and panicked, and even from here Gabe could see the pulse beating fast and frantic in the young man's throat. 

Lip curling in a snarl, Gabriel gestured angrily at McCree. "You're supposed to be in sharpshooting training right now! What the hell are you doing playing hooky?" Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he had to tone it down, gentle his aggression. The beta didn't deserve to have Gabriel go off on him because he was pissed at the bureaucrats, and this was undoing all of Gabe's hard work getting McCree to trust him. 

Later, he knew he'd regret it. Just like he would indeed regret destroying the coffee maker that was apparently what he'd picked up off the counter. Right now, Gabe didn't much care about future regret. Only about current fury. Turning, he hurled the appliance against the wall after whatever he'd thrown first. It all but exploded, the remains crashing to the floor in a smoking heap, but it _still_ wasn't enough to take the edge off his anger.

"Training," he remembered, twisting back to face McCree and repeating his question. "Why aren't you there? If you were where you're supposed to be, then you wouldn't be sitting there fucking scared of me!" McCree was shaking where he sat, but made no move to leave. Probably he was afraid to twitch and provoke Gabriel, and he wasn't wrong to be worried.

"Captain Amari's on a mission, couldn't make our training session today," McCree said, each word carefully neutral in tone, his eyes fixed on the floor, the croon still vibrating desperately in his voice. "I ain't authorized to sign out live weapons and ammo without a supervisor yet, and the hard-light training guns are useless for precision shooting, not accurate enough at that distance. Figured I'd come back here and get started on my flight homework instead."

Gabriel spotted the textbook sitting on the coffee table, where McCree had indeed apparently been reading it. So he wasn't slacking off, like Gabe had first thought. The knowledge helped him ease back just a bit on his aggression. The croon helped too, as did the soothing pheromones the beta was pouring out, which finally reached Gabriel across the room. He took a step toward the couch, then another, drawn by that soft scent and the relief it promised. 

"Keep doing that," he demanded, suddenly exhausted and desperate for freedom from his own rage. McCree's eyes widened, and he cringed further back into the couch as Gabriel approached, but he kicked the croon up another notch. 

Of course he did... Gabriel had just ordered him to. Cursing, Gabe stopped where he was and pinched the bridge of his nose against the headache pounding in his skull. Closing his eyes, he willed himself to think past the unreasoning rage. "Damn it, that's not fair to you. If this is freaking you out and you need to leave, do it now."

There was a pause, then a rustle of fabric as McCree stood. Then footsteps, a heavy booted tread on the tiled floor, but instead of heading toward the door like Gabe expected, McCree approached _him_. The soothing scent intensified as he got nearer, and the croon had settled into a steadier sound. Disbelieving, Gabriel opened his eyes to see McCree standing before him, eyes submissively lowered but his back straight and shoulders squared. He was no longer cowering in fear, though Gabe could still catch the sour scent of it in the air beneath the soothing pheromones.

"What the hell are you doing?" Gabe demanded.

McCree flinched at the angry tone, but held his ground. "It's helping, isn't it? What I can do for you." He cocked his head as if listening, and his nostrils flared as he drew in Gabe's scent in turn. Judging the level of his anger, and probably listening to the growl Gabriel was barely conscious he was making. "You said that's what betas are for, helping to keep an Alpha on an even keel."

"Scaring the shit out of you isn't going to do anything to improve my self control," Gabriel retorted. "It's just going to piss me off more." And yet the longer they stood there, the more McCree's fear scent faded.

"It's been six months, and you ain't done a damn thing to hurt me," McCree said. "Got frustrated plenty of times, yelled at me a fair bit, but you never raised a hand. I don't reckon you're likely to now."

"I've never smashed the coffee maker that you've seen, either," Gabriel replied. "Didn't save it this time." Why the hell was he trying to convince McCree to leave, when all he wanted was for the beta to stay close? He already felt so much better, calmer and relaxed. Still wound up, still angry, but nowhere near the unreasoning rage he'd been in when he came back. 

To his astonishment McCree chuckled softly. He flicked a glance up through his lashes, checking Gabe's expression, and smiled. "Yeah well, I've got an advantage the appliance didn't. I'm pretty good at soothing an angry Alpha, as it turns out. Guess I've had plenty of practice."

There was a bitter undertone to the last words, but no other sign of the roil of negative emotions that had clung to McCree like a dark cloud when he'd first come to Blackwatch. The therapy had helped, and it seemed like finding a place to belong and be useful had helped even more, giving McCree confidence he'd been lacking when he arrived. 

He'd come a long damn way; gone was the scruffy, underfed delinquent teenager, and in his place stood a young but capable cadet. McCree had applied himself to his lessons like a starving man to a banquet, and his trainers had nothing but good things to say about him. Well, aside from his already infamous mouthiness to anyone who hadn't earned his respect the hard way. Even Jack had admitted that Gabriel was right to recruit the beta, in the end.

The memory of Jack eating crow, added to Gabriel's very real pride in the young man he'd taken under his wing, finally allowed Gabe to release the last of his rage. Sighing, he closed the remaining distance between them and pulled McCree into an embrace, though he kept his hold loose so McCree didn't feel trapped or forced. Far from pulling away, the beta leaned his head against Gabe's shoulder, pressing their chests together so his croon vibrated right into Gabriel's body.

Gabriel's growl eased into a responding sound, still rougher than a beta's croon but a positive rumble rather than a negative snarl. McCree relaxed further into his embrace, and they stood like that for long moments, soaking in each other's presence.

"Sorry," Gabe muttered, turning his head to nuzzle McCree's hair. The hat was missing for once, allowing Gabe to rub his cheek against the smooth strands. "It's been a rough day. Ever since they found out about my 'condition' the brass has been watching me like a hawk, just waiting for me to slip up and be 'too Alpha'. I've gotta grit my teeth, bite my tongue, and play nice with these assholes no matter what they do to provoke me. It drives me crazy."

"Sounds like enough to drive anyone off their rocker, let alone an Alpha," McCree chuckled. 

The laughter helped Gabriel relaxed further, and he found an answering snort of amusement. If anyone had asked a few minutes ago, he'd have sworn there was no way he'd find anything about today's bullshit funny, but here he was. 

"I hate reminding you of your asshole Alpha, though," he said with a heavy sigh. "I didn't want you to see me like this. Wouldn't have come back here if I hadn't thought you were out on the range."

Something about his comment made McCree chuckle again. When Gabriel raised an eyebrow, McCree shrugged and explained. "Different kind of 'on the range' than it would have meant back home, is all. I was a farmboy before I was a gangster."

"You saying all that cowboy swagger is the real thing?" Gabriel had to grin. "Still can't believe you argued the quartermaster into putting spurs on your boots." 

McCree hadn't wanted to wear a uniform at all, and while Gabriel didn't personally give a shit about that kind of pomp and circumstance, there _were_ good reasons for members of a military force like Overwatch to be recognizable, to the public and to each other. They'd come to a compromise wherein McCree was allowed to add his own distinctive flair to the uniform, and Gabe had to admit the result looked good on him. 

Too good, sometimes. The more McCree gained muscle and confidence, the more attractive he grew. Gabriel wasn't the only one who'd noticed, either; the young man often had a flock of admirers sighing around him. As far as Gabriel was aware, the beta hadn't taken any of the flirts up on their offers, but it was surely only a matter of time.

That thought made another growl rumble in his chest, and Gabriel's fists tightened as if he would lash out. Cursing silently, he forced himself to relax again. It was none of his business if McCree wanted to mess around with other people. Gabe was his commander, not his chaperone. Just because Gabe was inappropriately attracted to said subordinate didn't mean he had the right to curtail McCree's social life. He _had_ to control this, or arousal would show up in his scent and scare McCree off for good. Unfortunately, 'control' still felt far away to Gabriel right now.

Somehow McCree hadn't picked up on the clues yet, because he remained cuddled tight to Gabe's chest, taking and offering comfort as only ABOs could. He'd made huge strides in this area as well, no longer resisting the need for touch until Gabriel had to force the issue. Though he remained reluctant to initiate contact most of the time, he wasn't skittish when Gabriel offered. And _McCree_ had been the one to step forward now, even though Gabriel had been in a rage.

Flicking another gaze up at Gabriel through his lashes, McCree seemed thoughtful. "This really does help you a _lot_ , doesn't it."

"More than you know." McCree was even better than most betas at calming an Alpha. Probably that was a side effect of his desperate efforts to protect himself from that abusive asshole, and sometimes Gabriel felt guilty taking advantage of it. 

Not so guilty he'd shoot his own foot by refusing. The only one better than McCree for easing Gabriel's excessive aggression was that omega doctor, and she quite reasonably wanted nothing to do with him. Especially in the kind of state when he'd need her most.

"Well, all right, then." McCree nodded firmly, as if making up his mind. "God knows after all you've done for me, the least I can do is help you in return. I _do_ believe you won't hurt me, so don't avoid me when you get like this, all right? Come find me, instead. I'll give you what you need." He smiled up at Gabriel, a surprisingly sweet expression compared to his usual jaded cynicism. It showed a hint of the young man he might have been, if life hadn't treated him so badly.

Gabriel's heart did a weird little double thump, thudding hard enough against his ribs to be felt. He wished he could go back in time and change all the bullshit McCree had been through, fix it so the beta didn't have to suffer so much.

Of course, if he hadn't gone through all that crap, he wouldn't now be the kind of person who fit so well into Blackwatch. He'd be the sweet, caring young man hinted at by that smile, and the sharks in the black ops world would eat him alive. Not to mention he'd have no idea how to handle someone as aggressively Alpha as Gabriel, let alone figure out how to help him.

So, for purely selfish reasons, Gabe was glad McCree had suffered, horrible as that sounded. But the self _less_ part of him - a tiny voice that he wasn't used to hearing much, let alone listening to - whispered that if he really wanted to do right by the kid, he'd send McCree away, put him in a unit maybe led by another beta, get him away from Gabriel and his Alpha control issues.

As usual, the selfish part won, and he only held McCree closer still.


	6. Chapter 6

Jesse's heart pounded in his chest as he stared at the door to Reyes’ quarters, trying to work up the courage to knock. His palms were so sweaty he'd left marks on the sides of his flannel pjs where he kept wiping the moisture off. He'd talked himself into and out of this crazy stunt near a hundred times since the idea first occurred to him, that day when he'd helped Reyes find his control, and realized that the Alpha-beta relationship really _was_ supposed to be two sided.

It had never occurred to him before that Alphas needed betas, as much or more than betas needed Alphas. The shrink yapped a lot about the give and take in healthy relationships, but Jesse hadn't seen much evidence of it in his life until that moment of revelation. 

What he'd said that night was still true... after everything Reyes had done for Jesse, how could he refuse to give back to the Alpha in turn?

Then again, wasn't that exactly what Jesse had feared back in the beginning? That Reyes wanted Jesse not as an agent, but to be the beta to his Alpha? To use him, like all Alphas used betas?

But Reyes hadn't tried to take advantage of him in any way. Yeah, he'd pushed Jesse for contact early on, but Jesse now accepted that it really had been necessary for his own health. He'd never pushed the line past that, never demanded anything more than Jesse was willing to give. Hell, that night when he'd been so enraged, he'd outright said he wouldn't have come back to their quarters if he'd realized Jesse was there.

Did Jesse really _want_ there to be more between them, though? What if he offered it, and then the Alpha decided that was some kind of blanket permission to keep pushing? Jesse had smelled the arousal on Reyes sometimes when they touched, he knew the older man was attracted to him. He'd never made a move _yet_ , but what if he misunderstood what Jesse wanted to offer?

Would that actually be such a bad thing? God, the man was hot as the desert sand at midday, big and buff and handsome despite the scars, or maybe even because of them. He had a rugged, hard-lived look that drew Jesse like the proverbial moth to the flame. Or maybe that was just his sheer level of dominance; Jesse kept thinking about the things Angela said, how betas and omegas naturally craved the freedom of being able to give themselves over to someone else's control.

He sure as hell did trust Reyes enough for that. Mostly. Probably. Jesse wasn't entirely sure he trusted _himself_ , though. 

What if his judgement was screwy, given the only thing he had to compare a potential partner to was Mateo's bad example? What if he was just a bad goddamn judge of character, and all wrong about Reyes? After all, Jesse had trusted Mateo, once upon a time. But a man didn't go as bad as Mateo had _just_ because he manifested as an Alpha. Plenty of Alphas were perfectly decent people, and that meant the seed of abusiveness must have been in Mateo from the start.

Jesse was so damned tired of lying awake and alone at night, though. Hours and hours of tossing and turning, fretting and fussing. Wanting more, but afraid of getting it. This could either be the best decision he'd ever made in his life, or the worst; there was no in between, and the terror of that knowledge kept him paralyzed with indecision.

"McCree, what the hell are you doing?"

The unexpected voice from behind him made Jesse jump and whirl, putting his back against the wall as his hands came up in a defensive stance. All the months of training at least made that stance more useful than the badly imitated boxer's defense he'd once have used, but he still felt like an idiot when he saw Reyes standing a few feet away. The Alpha had one eyebrow arched in that sardonic, amused expression he so often wore, but there was impatience in his body language and scent. 

"I, uh... nothing?" Jesse stammered, the instinctive denial springing to his lips before he could think twice about it. 

"Uh-huh." Reyes seemed unconvinced. "Which is why you've been standing there staring at my door for god knows how long, looking like you expect something to jump out and bite you."

Had he been standing there that long? Jesse flushed, heat burning his cheeks so bad it felt like they were on fire. Probably Reyes was exaggerating, but it had still been long enough to make him look foolish, clearly. "I wanted to talk to you," he mumbled, eyes on his feet. He'd thought Reyes was already _in_ his room.

"Can it wait until morning?" Reyes sounded impatient. "It's late, and it's been a damn long day. Swear to god I'm gonna strangle these fucking penny pinchers eventually."

Jesse had known today was another budget review, that was the whole reason he'd twisted himself into this knot in the first place. Having come this far, there was no point in chickening out now. He forced the words out past a throat suddenly constricted by nerves. "I wanna help. Like last time, only more. You're always talkin' about ABO piles and how we all sleep together for the contact, except you and I never do."

"I haven't asked because you've been so skittish about touch, and I didn't want to push you," Reyes said, proving that at least some of Jesse's trust in the man wasn't misplaced. "I'm glad to hear you're willing to consider it, but frankly I may not be your best option." He grimaced and rubbed his face with one hand, like he was weary. The sharp spike of arousal in his scent suggested it was more likely he was trying to hide the interest in his expression, though. "There are several other ABOs in Blackwatch now. You oughta be building relationships with them anyway. You don't have to rely on me anymore."

"I don't trust none of 'em the way I do you," Jesse explained. It was the truth, but there was also more to it than that. He didn't _owe_ them the way he did Reyes. But if he said that out loud, Reyes would get it in his head that Jesse was _only_ offering this out of some kind of obligation, and would refuse on principle.

"None of them are the type to hurt you, McCree. Not even the Alphas, but you definitely don't need to be wary of the other betas." Reyes shook his head. "I'm not in any fit state to continue this conversation. We'll talk about it tomorrow, I'll take you around and introduce you."

"But I..."

" _Enough_." The word carried the strength of an Alpha's order, backed by the pheromones that compelled Jesse to want to obey. "We're done talking." He pushed past Jesse to open the door to his quarters, muscles tense and scent full of desire. 

Jesse couldn't resist the order to stop talking about it, not with that much force of command behind it. But he'd paid damn close attention to his lessons about how to resist enemy Alphas, and there were ways around that kind of thing - like taking orders literally. Without saying another word he followed at Reyes' heels, and managed to slip inside the other man's room before the Commander realized he was there. It wasn't until Reyes turned back to close the door that he spotted Jesse, and scowled.

"The hell, McCree?"

Quickly, before Reyes could follow that up with an order to get out, Jesse 'reminded' him, "You said not to talk about it anymore. So I'm done talkin'." Slipping his arms around Reyes' waist, Jesse snuggled up close, crooning and putting out as many calming pheromones as he knew how.

Immediately Reyes started to relax, even as his hands came up to grip Jesse's shoulders and try to push him away. He didn't try very hard though, maybe afraid of hurting Jesse. Holding on tight, Jesse closed his eyes and leaned his cheek against Reyes' shoulder, breathing deep of the Alpha's scent. There was the rage and aggression caused by the day of frustrating meetings, not as bad as last month but still enough that it would have triggered Jesse's PTSD not so very long ago. But he was learning to handle that, too, and stay in the moment rather than being caught up in the traumatic memories.

"God damn it, you don't want to do this." Reyes sounded aggravated, like he was on his last nerve. "I'm in no mood to be gentle right now."

Jesse's heart thudded against his ribs. Was that a warning that Reyes _would_ push things farther, into sex, if Jesse stayed? The thought made shivers run down Jesse's spine and he still wasn't sure if they were from nervous fear or eager anticipation. Hell, maybe it was both. "Don't tell me what I want," he said, as firm as he could in the face of that much Alpha dominance. "That's the one thing an Alpha can't do, affect what I _want_. You taught me that." 

It was perhaps the most important lesson Jesse had ever learned, because the conscious realization that his mind was still his own had helped him to overcome his fear of ever connecting with another ABO again. 

For a long moment Reyes stood still, trembling on the edge. Jesse knew all too well what that kind of internal battle felt like, between what you wanted and what you knew you should do. When it came down to a choice between the smart thing and the stupid thing, Jesse had a bad track record of choosing the stupid thing most of the time. He hoped, this once, Reyes would do the same.

Finally the Alpha seemed to come to a decision, releasing Jesse and taking a deliberate step back. With a sinking heart Jesse lowered his gaze, thinking that was the end of it, so Reyes' next gruff order caught him by surprise. "Get in the bed."

The difference between the order he'd expected and the order he'd received held Jesse motionless for a moment. Then the Alpha growled in barely leashed frustration, and Jesse scrambled to obey before Reyes could change his mind... or lose his temper. The Alpha was riding the knife edge again tonight, and the last thing Jesse wanted to do was push him over. That would defeat the whole purpose of him being here.

It felt weird to slide between the sheets of another man's bed, after all these months of sleeping alone. The sheets were freshly laundered and came from a general pool among the base, so they didn't hold Reyes' scent, but the pillows and mattress did. Jesse snuggled in with a happy sigh. When Reyes' hard, heavy body settled in beside him and gathered him in close, Jesse closed his eyes and crooned in contentment. Reyes wrapped around him from behind, big and solid enough to feel like he enveloped Jesse completely, even though the Alpha wasn't much taller than him. 

He'd forgotten how damn good it was to cuddle in close like this, skin to skin. Jesse wore only his flannel pants, and it felt like Reyes had stripped down to boxers, so the Alpha's muscled chest pressed against Jesse's back with nothing between them. Reyes' hand stroked down Jesse's hip and thigh, over and over again like petting a cat, and it felt incredible. He felt cherished and cared for, protected from the harsh realities of the world. In that moment nothing existed but him and the Alpha, and Jesse's whole being vibrated with contentment.

Reyes was still tense, but the anger and aggression started to fade from his scent. It left the arousal behind, stronger than ever, and Jesse waited with bated breath for the stroke to turn into a caress, wander into the less safe areas of his body. With every moment that passed he felt less trepidation and more anticipation, and he knew Reyes would be able to pick that up in _his_ scent, too.

But the Alpha's touch stayed innocent and chaste, not straying from his side. Eventually Reyes' breathing deepened into the rhythm of sleep. His hand did slip forward then, but it was only to cinch around Jesse's waist and pull him in tight. The closer contact drove the Alpha's hard cock into Jesse's backside, but it was an unconscious connection, not a deliberate sexual advance. For all his protestation that he had no gentleness in him tonight, Reyes had done nothing that crossed the line.

The depth of Jesse's disappointment shocked him. The sliver of relief he felt was nothing in comparison. His cock was hard too, aching with need he'd never thought he'd experience for another person again. He'd been _so sure_ Reyes was going to make a move, and apparently his subconscious had already accepted that and looked forward to it with great anticipation, even as his conscious mind dithered around about it.

Without thinking, he reached down and squeezed his dick, trying to ease the ache. Then he froze, remembering where he was - and more importantly, who he was with. Reyes hadn't shifted, apparently undisturbed by Jesse's movement, but the Alpha would hardly be amused if he woke to find Jesse jerking off in his bed. 

Yet now that Jesse had started, he couldn't bring himself to let go. He was tangled up in pleasure caused not just by his own touch, but by experiencing that touch while surrounded by Reyes' body, soaking in the scent of arousal that the Alpha still gave off. He'd forgotten how much that could enhance his own arousal, how infectious the need could be when Jesse was receptive to it instead of actively fighting it. 

Reyes seemed pretty dead to the world, exhausted by the long day and the adrenaline crash caused by the hours of aggression and frustration. Could Jesse...? No, that would be insane. There was no way Jesse could get off without waking Reyes, surely. If he _had_ to do it, he should excuse himself to the bathroom and deal with the problem in private. 

Except then he'd lose that delicious scent, the warmth and strength of the Alpha's body wrapped around him, the whole reason Jesse felt so desperate in the first place. Not to mention if he got out of the bed now, he was pretty sure Reyes would lock the door and keep him out. Or worse, he'd take it as an indication that Jesse had changed his mind, or couldn't handle being around the Alpha for this long, and Reyes would never allow this to happen again.

Of course, he'd never allow it to happen again if he caught Jesse jerking off, too.

If he held himself absolutely still, forced himself to keep his breathing steady... Jesse took an experimental stroke, slow and careful, to see if he could do it without moving anything in contact with Reyes. He _could_ , but it didn't give him much range of motion. He'd have to go slow, when usually he went hard and fast while getting himself off. It would be torture, drawing it out, every moment a struggle not to move or moan or react in any outward way. 

Doing this wouldn't just be stupid, it would be _monumentally_ stupid. The smart thing was to make himself let go and settle in to suffer for a little while, until he fell asleep. 

Smart. Stupid. Smart. Stupid. It was like watching a mental coin toss, waiting to see how it landed. Something outside of his control, even though he knew he had only himself to blame for his stupid decisions in life. Still the coin spun in his mind. Smart. Stupid. Smart.

Stupid.

Letting out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding, Jesse stroked himself again, revelling in the sinful sensation. The very fact that it was a stupid thing to do lent spice to it, a thrill of danger and shiver of fear enhancing the sweep of pleasure. A third stroke, and he had to fight to keep his hips still, the urge to thrust into his grip shockingly strong.

God, he wished Reyes was the one with his hand wrapped around Jesse's cock, torturing him with the slow strokes. It would be so much easier to keep himself still if he'd been ordered to do so, damn it. 

Fuck, now he was imagining Reyes pinning him down, heavy body pressing Jesse's into the mattress so he _couldn't_ move. He could almost hear the Alpha's possessive growl, vibrating in Jesse's bones until he felt claimed down to his very soul. He'd _never_ thought he would want that again, but in that moment it was the most enticing thing he could imagine. 

Christ, it was _so_ hard to keep his hips still, he'd never experienced anything like it. The ache in his balls grew steadily, a constant increasing pressure that made him wild with the need to move. Slowly Jesse shifted his other hand up until he could bite his knuckle, using the sting of pain to ground him against the unthinking urge. It helped remind him not to moan, too, though there didn't seem to be much he could do about the way his breathing grew ragged. 

Reyes still hadn't budged, fast asleep. Heart pounding, Jesse moved his hand a little faster, desperate for release. He couldn't remember ever wanting, _needing_ to come so bad. It built and built and built until he was wild with it, biting his knuckle until it bled to hold in his cries. When the explosion finally boiled up from deep within, Jesse's control snapped and he _had _to thrust into the last few strokes, literally unable to stop himself.__

__It was the most powerful orgasm he could ever remember having, and it felt like it went on and on, emptying his very soul. Hot spurts of semen coated his hand and spilled onto the sheets. It probably ought to worry him that he'd be leaving evidence behind for Reyes to potentially notice in the morning, but at the moment the only thing Jesse could care about was how fucking good he felt._ _

__Reyes _still_ remained unmoving, and Jesse thought he'd actually gotten away with it somehow. Then he realized how rigid the Alpha held himself, muscles tense again, his cock an iron bar branding Jesse's ass. The rough growl turned out not to be his imagination after all, a low snarl that Jesse felt more than heard. It pinned him in place as thoroughly as any physical hold could have, heart pounding now from terror instead of ecstasy. _ _

__Jesse opened his mouth to sputter an apology, beg for forgiveness that he knew damn well he didn't deserve. Nothing came out, his throat constricted by Reyes' previous order to stop talking about what Jesse had wanted to offer for the night. Trembling, he wondered if he should turn around, try to kiss Reyes or reach for the Alpha's dick in a non-verbal offer, but he couldn't find the courage to face the man._ _

__After a long, tense minute, Reyes rendered the point moot by sighing and saying, "Go to sleep, Jesse." He put the force of an order behind it, even though that wasn't the kind of order a beta could necessarily follow. It was meant as a command to drop the subject, to pretend the whole thing had never happened. There was no way Jesse could offer anything, verbally or otherwise, after that._ _

__Jesse turned his face into the pillow, trying to cool the furious heat in his cheeks. At the same time he was astonished that the order hadn't been to get the fuck out, instead. More than that, Reyes had used Jesse's given name, something he never did. An acknowledgement that something intimate had just passed between them? Had it been deliberate, or a slip of the tongue? Reyes hadn't released him, if anything had pulled Jesse closer still, but didn't seem inclined to do anything about the surely painful erection that pressed so tight against Jesse._ _

__The conflicting signals threatened to drive Jesse mad, but he knew he'd pushed his luck more than far enough tonight. Reyes hadn't rejected him, didn't even seem mad; that growl was possessive, not angry. It was the best outcome he could hope for, and a hell of a lot better than he deserved._ _

__And goddamn, but that heady scent of arousal pouring off the Alpha was addicting. It held none of the taint of sick sadistic pleasure that Mateo's had at the end, just pure honest desire. Knowing he had that kind of power over the Alpha... yeah, Jesse didn't mind that at all._ _

__Crazy bastard that he was, in the back of his head Jesse was already quietly contemplating whether the silent acceptance of what he'd done meant he could get away with it again in the future._ _


	7. Chapter 7

With Blackwatch growing rapidly, Gabriel rarely got to see much of Jack or Ana anymore, let alone kick back and relax with both of them. For the three of them to have a whole night off together was unheard of. But Gabe had brought Jesse to Headquarters to spend some time with the omega girl newly instated as the head of Overwatch's medical research division, Ana had just finished a rough mission and been ordered by the doc to take a full day of R&R, and the two of them combined forces to badger Jack into leaving the endless paperwork alone for one damn night.

Gabe whipped up churros, Ana supplied shawarma, and Jack brought the beer. They made an impromptu party of it, and for a few blessed hours, it was as though nothing had changed and the three of them were still as tight as ever. With a couple of drinks in him, full of delicious food, he managed to fully relax for the first time in far too long.

Of course Jack then had to go and ruin it, bringing up the one topic Gabriel would much rather have avoided thinking about. "You seem more stable than usual. Have they found some kind of treatment for the deterioration?" 

Gabe grunted, wondering if he could straight up refuse to answer. But Ana was looking at him too, with that stern Mom expression she'd used to such great effect on her little girl, and Gabe knew they wouldn't drop it without at least a cursory response. "I wish. Maybe that doctor girl of yours will come up with something, she's supposed to be some kinda genius, right?"

"Head of her field, smarter than most ten other people," Jack agreed, and looked as smugly pleased as if the girl's brilliance was somehow his doing. "She's already made huge advances in cybernetics and tissue regeneration, and now she's working on something she calls biotic healing tech. Could be revolutionary. I’m hoping we can get it pushed through to be used on our agents even if it's not cleared for general use."

"She might even manage to keep us honest, while she's keeping us alive," Ana laughed. "That girl has a backbone some Alphas would envy, and an honest streak that goes all the way down. Fareeha's half in love with her."

"Fareeha? When did they even meet?" Gabe asked, surprised. He knew Ana didn't get to spend nearly as much time with her daughter as she wanted, and couldn't imagine when the girl might have run into Ziegler.

"Fareeha came to stay with me the same summer Angela did an internship with Overwatch," Ana said. "Fareeha was so drawn to her, she broke the rules and snuck into the research wing to hide in Angela's lab, just to be near her. Angela swore up and down that she didn't mind having Fareeha keep her company, and they've been avid penpals ever since. Fareeha's beside herself that she'll get to see her 'Angel' the next time she comes to visit me."

"Is Fareeha confirmed to be an Alpha?" The girl had certainly shown flashes of Alpha personality, and her father Sam was one. Then again, Ana herself could pass for an Alpha if you couldn't tell otherwise from her lack of scent marker, so Fareeha might turn out to be strong-willed but normal. 

If she'd been drawn to the omega doctor so much that the normally well-behaved girl had broken the rules, though, that was a pretty good sign that she was an ABO. Even though she'd been far too young to manifest, she'd felt the instinctive happiness brought by the omega's presence.

"Sam says yes, and Angela said as much as well." Ana gave a dramatic sigh. "Surrounded by stubborn Alphas. How is a normal person supposed to get anything done? Thank god you're not one, Jack, or I'd have thrown in the towel years ago."

"Bullshit," Gabriel snorted. "You manipulate Jack and I into doing what you want most of the time, and Sam dotes on you. The only reason _you_ aren't running this circus is because you hate paperwork so much, you turn down promotions."

"I'm with him," Jack agreed, and Ana chuckled. "Any time you do decide you want to trade places, I'll happily dump the damn bureaucracy on you and get back into the field."

Gabriel bit down hard on a sarcastic comment about how _he'd_ be perfectly happy to take over Jack's position. It was an enduring sore point between them, and Gabriel tried not to stomp on the landmine if he could avoid it. He didn't want to get into yet another argument about whether racism and anti-ABO sentiment had played a part in the decision to put Jack in command of all of Overwatch. For once, he even succeeded in keeping the bitterness to himself.

Or so he thought, until Ana gave him a contemplative look and said, "Jack's right, you _are_ relaxed tonight. Usually you'd have been all over a comment like that. I'd think you must have been spending time with Angela, except I know the conditions she made Jack promise before she agreed to work here."

"Limited contact with Alphas, and only with someone normal present as well, I know." Gabriel was a little sour about it, but frankly he also couldn't blame the girl. She had every right to protect herself as necessary. "She tolerates me for the sake of spending time with Jesse, but we're never gonna be friends."

"Oh, _Jesse_ is it?" Jack raised his eyebrows and tipped his chair back, balancing it on two legs. "That's new. He's a beta. Is having the kid around all the time the reason you're doing better?"

"He's not a kid," Gabriel snapped. Then he forced himself to take a breath and continue in a more reasonable tone. "As he pointedly told me, if I want him to respect himself, I have to show him respect in turn. He's an agent, and a damn good one as it turns out." 

"His aim is remarkable," Ana agreed. "He tells me there was a girl in his gang who might be even better, but I'm not sure I believe him. Certainly not after all the training I've given him. A pity he doesn't have the patience or personality to be a sniper. He'd be truly exceptional."

"Not in his character," Gabriel agreed. "He'll fight like a hellcat in the heat of the moment, but taking a cold-blooded shot from hiding just isn't in him. No offense to your honourable profession intended."

"None taken." Ana shrugged. "Very few are suited for it. He's a better fit for your team this way, anyhow. It's hard not to view him as a child when he's barely out of his teens, though. He's hardly any older than Fareeha."

"Fareeha's only fifteen," Gabriel argued, shifting uncomfortably. "McCree is twenty. Five years makes a huge difference at that age. McCree's an adult, even if he's a young one." Gabriel _had_ to think of him that way, or his attraction to the beta made him feel like a damn pedophile. He had no interest in children, and Jesse was old beyond his years, matured early by the tough life he'd lived.

And there was no way in hell Gabriel could deny that he _was_ deeply attracted to the beta. Not when he kept lying there listening to Jesse jerk off in his arms at night, instead of putting a stop to the highly inappropriate behaviour. Not when it was all he could do not to reach down and fist Jesse's cock himself, hanging onto control by the skin of his teeth. Not when he'd send Jesse off in the morning and then roll over to bury his face in the beta's pillow, wallow in the scent of the young man's arousal and orgasm, and stroke himself until he exploded about three seconds later.

There was a reason the 'ABO orgy' was such a staple of the stereotypes about them. Touch didn't have to be sexual to sate their contact hunger, but it often _was_. The innocent pleasure they found in the contact created a receptive environment to other kinds of pleasure, and of course once one person in the pile got aroused, the scent of it affected everyone else. 

That was why Gabe hadn't objected to Jesse jerking off; the young beta was experiencing the positives of such extended contact for the first time, plus he was undoubtedly picking up on Gabriel's arousal. Of course he got carried away, lost in the pleasure, unable to resist. Scolding him for it could do more damage than good, drive him away and make him feel shamed for a completely natural reaction.

Or that was the excuse Gabriel kept giving himself.

Hauling his thoughts out of the gutter, he forced his concentration back onto the conversation. "He probably is the reason I'm doing better," he admitted reluctantly. "He's very good at soothing an Alpha, which is not surprising considering his background. Even when he's not actively trying, his presence is still..." Gabriel struggled to find a word that encompassed everything he felt when McCree was tucked up against him, crooning softly. "Fuck, I'm not sure I can put it into terms the two of you would really understand."

Most of the time he appreciated that his two best friends were normal humans. It meant he never had to worry about dominance battles, didn't have to struggle to hide emotions in his scent, didn't have to fear that he might be unduly influencing them somehow. But every once in a while he regretted the gap it created between him and them, the things they simply could not understand about his life, no matter how much he tried to explain.

Jack gave him a wry smile. "Well, however it works, I'm glad he's helping you. I doubt you're conscious of how _much_ difference it's making. I haven't seen you this relaxed in a long time." He laughed, rocking his chair back and forth on the two legs. "Better watch it though, or you're gonna start rumours that you're getting inappropriate, with the sappy way you talk about him."

Grunting, Gabriel took a swig of his beer, using it as an excuse not to answer. He could feel heat burning in his cheeks, and hoped his dark colouring would help hide it. He was all too aware that no normal person would consider what he did with Jesse at night to be 'appropriate'. It was another of those things that would only make sense to another ABO.

Though, if he was being honest with himself, a lot of ABOs would probably consider their relationship inappropriate, too.

There was a loud thump as the chair's legs hit the floor, and Jack sat up straight, staring at him. "Gabe, tell me you're not sleeping with the kid."

"He's not a kid, damn it," Gabriel snarled. "And I'm not fucking him, if that's what you mean." Technically. He was splitting hairs and he knew it; Jesse jerking off in Gabriel's arms was pretty damn sexual in nature. "If you mean literally, you know damn well ABOs on the same team almost always end up sharing beds on a regular basis. It's normal and healthy for us."

"That's true," Ana put in, ever the conciliatory one. "It's something I had to learn to accept, when I first got into a relationship with Sam."

"Of course I know that," Jack retorted, glaring at Gabe. "I'm not making some kind of anti-ABO judgement, I'm talking about the fact that he's your subordinate, half your goddamn age, and already highly traumatized by an Alpha in the past! Christ, Gabriel, you _know_ the brass is watching you like a hawk, waiting for any reason to sanction you. Or better yet, for an excuse to shut you - and Blackwatch - down. If they catch one whiff of this, they'll be all over you for fraternization and abuse of a subordinate."

"You just got done saying how glad you are that the extended contact with him is helping me," Gabe pointed out, rolling his eyes. "Now you're bitching about how I'm getting that contact. Make up your damn mind."

"Stop acting like I'm the enemy here," Jack snapped. "I'm trying to watch your back, asshole."

"Of course, there is one circumstance under which nobody could get upset about it." Ana had that too-neutral tone she got when she thought they were being particularly dumb. "Certain exceptions are made for ABOs in command, when necessary."

Gabe froze in the midst of lifting his beer. "Oh, no. Hell, no. No fucking way." There was only one thing she could mean, and the very thought of it sent chills down his spine. 

Jack frowned at both of them. "Are you talking about the exception for bonded pairs? That’s not something you can lie about, and it’s not like he could - or _would_ \- force a bond with the kid."

"Of course he wouldn't force one. What a ridiculous thing to even suggest." Ana gave them an indulgent smile, like they were unruly little boys and she wanted to pat them on the head. She'd always been good at putting them in their place with nothing more than a look. “I never said anything about _creating_ a bond.”

“No. _No_.” Gabriel started shaking his head, and couldn’t seem to stop once he’d started. That expression, like she thought she knew something he should already have figured out... She was teasing, right? She had to be teasing. He could not already be bonded to Jesse. No way, no how. “ _Not funny_ , Ana!”

"Oh, you're probably right, and I'm just imagining things.” The Madonna-like smile only grew. “It's only that bonded Alphas are known for being _so_ much more stable and level-headed. Not to mention that much more likely to snarl and jump to the defense of their beta at any perceived slight, like being referred to as a child. And Jack's right, I've never heard you talk about someone with the tone you used to describe Jesse. But I'm sure it's nothing."

Every word hit Gabriel like a hammer to the heart, and he stared at her in horror. "Absolutely not. I am not bonding to anybody, let alone an emotionally needy, traumatized kid. _Never_." He'd always sworn that he would never bond, had absolutely no interest in that kind of domesticity and permanence in a relationship.

"Oh, _now_ he's a kid," Jack snorted. "Anyway, both people have to be willing to bond, don't they? So it's not like it could happen by accident."

"Willing, yes." Ana tipped her head. "Not necessarily conscious of that willingness, however. I must say I'm surprised Jesse would be able to trust an Alpha that much after what he went through, but then again, he views you as something of a saviour. And I heard he's excelling in his training to resist Alpha commands. A bond would lend a certain advantage in that area."

"He's excelling at it because he's a stubborn jack-ass who's got damn good motivation to apply himself and learn." Unable to contain the surge of emotions within him, Gabriel jumped to his feet and started pacing back and forth across the room. Unfortunately, he couldn't seem to outrun his own thoughts. "I'm protective of him because I'm proud of him, damn it. Of course I care. I respect him, and he's damn well earned that respect. And all right, I'm drawn to him. That's natural for an Alpha and a beta. That doesn't mean I'm in love with him!"

"Methinks the man doth protest too much," Jack murmured, now looking at him with an expression Gabriel couldn't interpret. 

"Being bonded and being in love aren't at all the same thing," Ana said. "They often go hand in hand, but so does love and friendship. I love both of you, but I'm not _in_ love with you."

"Thank god," Jack and Gabriel muttered on the same breath, and Ana laughed.

If only it was that simple when it came to Jesse. Gabriel knew Jack was right, that things were crossing a line they shouldn't be crossing, not when Jesse was under his command and vulnerable to manipulation or pressure from Gabriel. And thanks to the whole Alpha-beta thing, that pressure and manipulation could all too easily happen subconsciously on Gabriel's part.

Christ, was Ana right that they were bonding, though? Her list of 'symptoms' was accurate, and could certainly be argued to apply to Gabriel right now. It would explain why Jesse seemed so unable to resist the need for more than just touch; it would explain why Gabriel found it so impossible to tell him to stop. And when he thought of that sweet smile Jesse had recently started giving him, the one that punched Gabe straight in the feels every goddamn time...

"Son of a _bitch_." The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. For some twisted value of 'sense', anyway. 

A bemused smile curved Jack's lips, and he tipped his chair back again. "I always said that when you finally fell, it would be because someone snuck up and cut your legs out from under you before you realized it. I could wish you'd picked a little better, but I suppose it's not really the kind of thing you _pick_. And Ana's right that if you're bonded, the brass can't come down on you for being with him."

"I wouldn't suggest advertising it," Ana added dryly. "Keep it under wraps as much as possible. It's nobody's business but yours, anyway."

"Not like that stopped the two of you from poking your noses in," Gabriel snorted.

"Because we're watching your back," Jack repeated. "Just like you'd do for either of us, if our positions were reversed."

He would, Gabriel knew. In fact he'd probably have been yelling a lot more than Jack had been to him. He appreciated both of them looking out for him, even as he resented it. But there was one other factor in this that they weren't accounting for. "I'm not the only one affected by this. I won't do this to him, damn it. Jesse's been through way too fucking much already, and if he has any idea what's happening between us, I'll eat my gun. If he'd _want_ this to happen, I'll eat both guns!"

"You need to talk to him about it," Ana agreed, no longer teasing. "If he doesn't want it, or you decide you don't, then you need to separate yourselves, immediately and entirely. If you're lucky and the bond isn't complete, you _might_ still be able to break it. But you'll make yourselves both utterly miserable trying."

"What the hell am I supposed to do, kick him out on the street?" Gabriel stopped pacing, slumping against the wall as he rubbed a hand over his face. "He's got nowhere else to go, and it's going to make him feel trapped. He'll think he has to agree whether he wants it or not."

"I'll take him in Overwatch, if it comes to that," Jack offered. "It's not as ideal for him as Blackwatch, but I'll find a place for him somewhere. I've already admitted you were right, and he's going to be a damn good agent. It'd be a goddamn shame to waste his potential."

Something shattered, the sound of breaking glass loud in the small room. Liquid spilled over Gabriel's hand, and he glanced down to find that he'd tightened his grip around his beer until the bottle gave way under the pressure. Only then did he realize he was growling, the low, dangerous snarl of a pissed-off Alpha, enraged beyond reason by the thought of Jesse leaving Blackwatch. He wanted to rip Jack's throat out for threatening to steal the beta. _His beta_.

Oh shit.

Astonished silence reigned for a long moment, before Ana finally broke it with a gently sympathetic tone. "Unfortunately, I think it might already be too late."


	8. Chapter 8

It didn't take long before Jesse came to think of Angela Ziegler as a damn good friend. The omega was sweet and caring, with a tart sense of humour and a spine of steel despite her submissive nature. Before he'd met her, that would have sounded like a contradiction, but she'd convinced him there was a lot more to the whole dominance thing than just 'strong' and 'weak'.

She seemed to regard him as a friend as well, and now that she was a member of Overwatch instead of only coming to visit him once in a while, they got to spend more time together. Often they invited other beta agents to hang out with them, sometimes even an Alpha like Reyes. Tonight it was just the two of them, though. She'd made popcorn, Jesse supplied the whiskey and wine, and they kicked back on her couch to watch movies. One Western, one chick-flick - by agreement, Angela picked the Western and Jesse the chick flick, to 'broaden their horizons'.

They were halfway into a parody remake of 'The Magnificent Seven', curled up together on the couch laughing, when a harsh knock came at the door to her quarters. Pausing the movie, Jesse looked at Angela with an eyebrow raised, but she shook her head to indicate she had no idea who it might be. Standing, she ran a hand through her hair and checked her sweater and jeans to ensure no popcorn had clung or wine spilled in the merriment.

In the thirty seconds it took her to make sure she was presentable, the person knocked again, harder this time. Frowning, Jesse got to his feet as well, positioning himself so he'd be visible from the doorway and ready to move. Whoever it was, they sounded angry, and anyone who thought they could push around the omega as 'easy prey' would have to answer to him.

When she opened the door, however, it was Reyes on the other side. He looked agitated, and his scent had a sharp note to match his tight expression and tense body language. " _Finally_ ," he said, as if it had taken her long minutes to answer. "I need to talk to you."

"What's up, boss?" Jesse tipped his head, studying the Commander with a feeling of deep unease. Reyes had said he was going to spend the evening with Morrison and Amari, enjoying the time off same as Jesse and Angela. There was no reason he should be interrupting them halfway through, certainly not as upset as he looked now.

Had Morrison or Amari said something negative about Jesse, something that got Reyes pissed at him? Jesse racked his brain for anything he'd done wrong recently. Captain Amari had been nothing but praise for his diligence in his shooting practice with her, and she didn't seem the type to praise him to his face while snarking behind his back. He'd barely interacted with Morrison, and Jesse's other trainers were all Blackwatch, so they'd be reporting to Reyes first, not Morrison.

"In private," Reyes demanded. Heart sinking, Jesse tried not to tremble. It sure as hell sounded like he was about to get a dressing down, and he hadn't yet seen what Reyes was like when he was angry with _Jesse_. Moment of truth, apparently.

"I'll step outside," Angela offered, but Reyes shook his head.

"No, damn it. You're the one I need to talk to," Reyes insisted. "Jesse, outside."

There was enough command behind the order that Jesse's feet started moving before he consciously registered the words, but Angela placed herself squarely between him and the door, blocking Jesse's path. She glared at Reyes' chest, unable to make eye contact but clearly pissed off. "You know my rules, Commander."

"Damn it, Ziegler, this is urgent and private," Reyes snapped. He took a deep breath, and seemed to make an effort to control himself, toning down the sharp edge in his voice and gentling his agitated scent. "Five minutes. That's all I ask."

Chewing on her bottom lip, Angela considered it. "All right, but Jesse stays in sight in the hall."

"For god's sake, what the hell do you think I'm going to do to you?" Reyes' lip curled in a snarl, and Angela took a step back. 

"Exactly that - underestimate the impact you'll have when you're angry," Angela retorted. "You're upset enough that it's distressing to me, and my distress in turn will agitate you further. Jesse can spot the signs of a feedback loop and step in to break it for both of us. The fact that you're still _asking_ , instead of ordering, is the only reason I'm willing at all, so take it or leave it."

There was a brief pause, like Reyes was considering issuing that order after all. Jesse fervently hoped his commander wasn't as lost to sense as all that. Snapping an order at Angela would get him what he wanted now, but it would either get him banned from her presence permanently, or cause her to leave Overwatch entirely. 

Thankfully, sense seemed to prevail. "Jesse, wait in the hall with the door open," was the order Reyes finally issued. "Don't read our lips or otherwise eavesdrop."

"I wouldn't," Jesse protested. He absolutely would have, and damn Reyes for thinking to order him not to. Now he wouldn't be able to watch closely enough to figure out what they were saying. What good was all that spy training he'd been getting, if he couldn't use it to find out things involving him?

Hard to believe it _didn't_ involve him in some way. If it was a medical emergency, Reyes could have gone to the doctors on duty in the infirmary. The only reason to come to Angela was if it was something about Jesse.

Standing in the hall, watching the two of them talk from the corner of his eye, Jesse fretted himself halfway into a panic. Reyes talked fast, gesturing intently. Angela's eyes widened and she covered her mouth in shock, then flicked a glance Jesse's way. Well, that sealed it. They were _definitely_ talking about him. God damn it, what the hell had he done? Why did Reyes need to confer with Angela about it?

Reyes kept talking, and as Angela's shock faded, so too did her wariness. She stopped holding herself like she was afraid to so much as brush against Reyes, instead leaning toward him with a collected, professional look. She asked questions, Reyes answered, and her frown grew deeper and deeper. Jesse fought the urge to bite his nails ragged. _What the hell_?

Finally Reyes gestured for Jesse to rejoin them. He came at a trot, just in time to hear Angela finish saying, "...by my lab tomorrow, I'll run some tests. It's not my area of specialty, but if there's anything I can do about your serum degrading, I'm happy to help. We won't know unless we try."

"Thanks, doc." Reyes seemed weary now, the anger and agitation magically soothed by the calming presence of the omega. Jesse could smell the extra sweet note in Angela's scent that meant she'd been making an effort to calm the Alpha. "I'll do that. For now, I'll leave the two of you to talk."

"Boss, what..." Jesse started, but Reyes snapped a glare at him.

"Not now, Jesse." The command behind the words was inescapable once more, and Jesse's mouth shut so fast his teeth clicked. He couldn't have asked anything further no matter how much he wanted to. Without so much as another look in Jesse's direction, Reyes slammed back out the door much the way he'd slammed in.

Mute with terror for what it all meant, Jesse turned wide eyes on Angela. She looked... sad, maybe? Still startled, still concerned, brow furrowed and pretty blue eyes distant, like she was lost in her own thoughts. When she saw Jesse looking, however, she gave him a smile that wasn't as reassuring as she probably meant it to be. "Calm down, Jesse. It's nothing as dire as you're probably thinking. You're not in any trouble."

"Yeah, finding that a little hard to believe, all things considered," Jesse retorted. 

"Come, sit down, stop wearing a hole in my lovely Turkish rug," Angela invited, sitting back down on the couch and patting the cushion beside her.

Only then did Jesse realize he was pacing back and forth, all that agitated energy needing to go somewhere. It _was_ an awfully pretty rug, expensive-looking and certainly not standard issue, and he'd hate to ruin it. So he sat as she suggested, grabbed the bourbon and his glass, and poured himself a hefty slug.

"While I don't encourage you to attempt to lose your problems in the bottom of a bottle, I must admit a glass is tempting." Sighing, Angela reached for her own half-finished glass of red wine. "Truly, I promise it's okay. Commander Reyes is using me as an intermediary because he's worried talking to you directly might cause him to unconsciously influence your responses. He really is one of the good ones, you know. Not many Alphas would even think of an issue like that, much less go out of their way to ensure it doesn't happen."

"So how come you still don't like spending time with him?" Jesse asked.

Her smile grew twisted. "Have you noticed, those times I join you both for lunch, he always orders for you and I as well as himself? If it was just you it could perhaps be excused as expediency, since he in theory knows your preferences by now, but he certainly doesn't know _me_ well enough to do so." She swirled the wine in the bottom of her glass. "He tries, but he can't help himself. It's not his fault."

Come to think of it, Reyes did usually grab food for Jesse as well as himself, when he wasn't so busy that he ordered Jesse to go fetch it instead. He'd never picked anything Jesse hated, so it hadn't really registered on his radar. It felt natural. "You coulda said something if he got food you don't like," he protested, bewildered. "Not as though he ordered you to eat it, did he?"

"You're missing the point," Angela sighed. "But that's all right. It's not your fault, either. And it's beside the real point, at the moment."

"What _is_ the real point?" Jesse felt like he'd gotten thoroughly lost somewhere in this conversation. 

"Apparently, the Commander believes there's a possibility that the two of you may be bonding." 

Angela said the words in a gentle tone, but they still dropped like bombs. His heart skipped a beat, ears ringing in shock, so that he missed whatever she said next. He stared at her, watching her lips move and her expression grow more concerned, as his mind spun in little circles.

It couldn't be. Could it? No fucking way. Everyone kept harping on how bonds were this rare and almost sacred thing; Jesse certainly knew there were exceptions to that, but it wasn't like Reyes could or would have _forced_ a bond on him. Reyes had said more than once that he had no intention of ever bonding to someone, and Jesse knew _he_ sure as hell didn't have any plans to chain himself to someone like that again.

Angela caught his shoulders and shook him, startling him enough that Jesse finally remembered to breathe. All the air rushed out of him in an explosive sound, and then he gasped it right back in. Jesse shook his head, and once he'd started he couldn't seem to stop, as if repeating the motion would make his denial true. "No. No, no, no. I'd fucking _know_. I know what it feels like!"

"Do you, though?" Angela's expression was sympathetic, and her grip slid down his arms to catch his hands, twining their fingers together. "Do you remember what it was like in the beginning, the good times, before everything went wrong?"

"You sound like my damn shrink," he said, avoiding the question because he was afraid she might have a point. 

"I've taken a few classes," she admitted with a smile. Her scent intensified, wrapping around him and seeming to sink into his very pores, a seductive whisper that urged him to be calm. Jesse knew what she was doing, had done the same thing often enough himself, but he'd never had someone soothe _him_ before.

Knowing that calm, rational thinking was exactly what he needed, Jesse latched on to that scent and the comfort it offered, trying to use it to anchor himself in the here and now. The past kept threatening, the cloying iron scent of blood teasing at the edge of his awareness, but he'd learned better how to push it away and stay in the moment.

"Would it really be the end of the world, if it happened?" Angela asked. "Reyes is certainly very different from what little you've told me about your previous Alpha. I know you look up to him, and you must trust him on a deep, instinctive level for this to be happening. _If_ it's happening; we still don't know that for certain."

"He must've been pretty damn sure, or he wouldn't have barged in here like the house was on fire," Jesse retorted. He tried to consider her question logically. Would it be the end of the world? What would it really mean, in practical terms?

"Am I just too damn weak to stand on my own?" Mateo threw that taunt at him all the time, and it was a thought that kept Jesse up nights even still. The endless lectures Reyes and others kept giving him about how betas didn't have to be weak were all well and good, but could as easily be empty words. Was Jesse reaching out to bond with the nearest Alpha because he was that desperate to be dominated? "Hell, this is the reason I've been doing so well in my training to resist Alphas, ain't it? And I was so damn proud of myself."

"Having a bond would make it easier for you to resist other Alphas, but don't discount your own contribution to that resistance." Angela's voice turned sharp, scolding. "If you were truly weak-willed, no depth of bond would protect you enough. It still requires strength of character. As for your first question, I've met plenty of betas and even the rare other omega who make little to no effort at resisting Alphas, yet who aren’t bonded. From what I've heard, the thing that made Reyes interested in you in the first place was your strength of will, and I suspect that would be instrumental in drawing him to you enough to form a potential bond."

It was true that Reyes had said, many times, that he'd become interested in Jesse's case specifically because he was impressed that a beta could have the strength to stand up to his abuser despite the situation. He'd encouraged Jesse to work hard, both in training and with the base therapist, to learn to overcome the natural limitations placed on him by his nature as an ABO. That certainly argued that Reyes wouldn't find a _lack_ of will to be attractive. If he was drawn to Jesse enough to form a bond, that then implied that Reyes, at least, truly believed in Jesse's strength. 

"What do I do?" he asked, plaintive. "I mean, god, not like I've even got any choice about it, do I? Where else would I go?"

"As Reyes tells it, Commander Morrison practically jumped on the chance to snatch you up for Overwatch instead," Angela replied, her eyes sparkling. "So you _do_ have options, if you want to take them. I certainly wouldn't mind having you around more."

Leave Blackwatch? Go to _Overwatch_? With all those bright, shiny, idealistic heroes, people who'd one and all earned exemplary service records before fighting to be admitted into the world's most prestigious peacekeeping agency... Fuck, Jesse had enough trouble feeling like he'd earned his place in Blackwatch, which was known for being staffed with the misfits. How could he ever hope to fit in there? But if it was that, or bond to Reyes...

Something surged up inside him, a rejection of the idea so fierce it left him feeling staggered. Not only rejection of the idea of leaving Blackwatch, though that was certainly present too.

Rejection, _utter_ rejection, of the idea of leaving Reyes.

"Fuck me riding sideways." Jesse poured himself another glass of bourbon and drained it, his hand shaking the whole time. "I think he's right, we are bonding."

"Then you'd best decide right now exactly what you want." Angela laid a hand over his, crooning, offering contact and comfort as only an omega could. "This _is_ still a choice. We are more than our instincts."

"Are we though?" Jesse wasn't so sure of that. More importantly, he wasn't sure he _wanted_ to be better. Not when being with Gabriel made him feel safe, secure, and happy. If he turned his back on this, he'd never have another chance. He'd probably end up following Angela's path, avoiding Alphas like the plague just in case it _was_ some kind of character flaw of his that made him feel like he needed someone dominating him.

But damn, that would feel like one hell of a loss. Jesse understood why Angela did what she did, but for the first time he actually felt sorry for her, that she was missing out on something that could be so wonderful. _If_ it was done right, with respect and love in the mix.

"How the hell do I even talk to him about this without getting into exactly the trouble he was afraid of, that I'll be influenced by what he wants?" Jesse shook his head. "I can't have you running back and forth between us."

"There's this amazing device that allows people to talk to one another, without seeing body language, hearing voice tone or catching any scents," Angela pointed out dryly. "You might even have heard of it, though apparently Commander Reyes hasn’t. It's called a computer, using a chat room."

Jesse blushed that such an obvious solution hadn't occurred to him. "Okay, yeah. Um, would you mind..." He faltered there, because it seemed rude asking her to leave her own living room so he could have a private text chat with Gabriel that might take who knew how long.

"Let's finish the movie," she suggested. "Try to keep your mind off it for a few minutes, allow your thoughts to settle. _Don't_ have any more alcohol," she added sharply when he reached out to do just that. "You want to have a clear head. Just sit with me, let me help you, and come at it when you feel more stable."

"I guess." Jesse wanted that next drink pretty bad, which was probably an indication that she was right and he shouldn't have it. Burying pain and emotional stress beneath alcohol was a bad habit he'd picked up when he was with Mateo. He doubted he'd be able to pay any attention to the move, let alone forget about the problem long enough to settle his mind, but at least it wouldn't be his first knee jerk reaction when he did talk to Gabriel.

Jesse just wished he had any idea what he was going to say, or even what he wanted to say.


	9. Chapter 9

After the movie was over, Angela offered to let him curl up with her in her bed, but Jesse opted to take her couch instead. It was too short for him, and god knew he probably could have used more of her comforting presence, but he knew he would only be delaying the inevitable. And torturing both himself and Gabriel while he was at it. Putting off this conversation wouldn't make it go any smoother, and Gabe was undoubtedly wearing a hole in the floor of whatever room he was in, waiting for Jesse's answer.

Once Angela retired to her bedroom, Jesse huddled under a light blanket on the couch and stared at his phone. He got as far as pulling up the message window between him and Gabriel. The last message was from Gabe, saying he would be spending the evening with Morrison and Amari, and that Jesse should take as long as he liked with Angela. That had been hours before the man barged in to drop his bombshell.

Jesse assumed Gabriel was bunking down in the quarters assigned to him here at Headquarters. They weren't as swanky as the rooms he and Jesse had at Blackwatch HQ, but Reyes was here in Switzerland often enough to need the room. Usually Jesse either crashed with Reyes or Angela, so he didn't have a bunk of his own here.

It was ungodly late, but he didn't doubt Reyes was awake. Jesse screwed up his courage and typed, hands shaking. 

' _you there?_ '

The response was nearly immediate. 

' _yeah_ '

Jesse made a face at the screen. Reyes was always a man of few words, but it would have been helpful if he'd given Jesse _some_ indication of his feelings about all this. Jesse had hoped for a hint of how he should proceed.  
Finally he decided he needed to just ask the question outright, because there was no point in talking about it until he knew one basic thing. 

' _do you want this?_ '

' _I won't force you  
you said you'd never bond again_'

' _and you always say you'll never bond at all, so we're even_ ' 

Jesse appreciated Gabriel's concern for his willingness, but right now Jesse needed to know if any of this was even welcome, before he could figure out if _he_ wanted it. 

' _I don't like the idea of being tied down_ ' 

That sure seemed like a negative answer, and Jesse's throat closed up. But a second text came through immediately. 

' _I suppose no Alpha thinks they'd want that  
doesn't stop 'em from bonding, and they seem to think it's worth it_'

Which still didn't really tell Jesse how Gabriel specifically felt about this. He made a noise of frustration, then clapped a hand over his mouth, remembering he wasn't alone. He listened, but didn't hear stirring from Angela's room, so hopefully he hadn't woken her. He typed again, fingers stabbing at the text letters.

' _damn it will you just give me a straight answer for once_ '

There was a long, long pause, but he could see the three dots that meant the Alpha was typing. Jesse wondered if the reply was that long, or if Gabriel was erasing and starting over a dozen times.

' _my head says FUCK NO, my heart says FUCK YES, be damned if I know which one to listen to_ '

Jesse's heart was already pounding with nerves, but now it tripped over into triple time in anticipation. Every cell of his body vibrated with the need to go to Gabriel, to do anything and everything he could to convince the Alpha to listen to his heart and not his head. Jesse knew how to manipulate an Alpha, knew the tricks and traps and triggers. They worked twice as well on Gabriel as they had on Mateo, because Gabe _wanted_ to make Jesse happy, so he knew he could get what he wanted.

And oh god, he wanted it. He wanted it so bad he was afraid of the longing itself. If Gabriel would just come right out and say he fucking wanted this just as bad, instead of dithering around about it, Jesse would run across the base and be on the older man's cock before you could say 'yippee ki yay'.

Which, he realized in astonishment, was probably exactly why Gabriel was refusing to say it. He feared Jesse would take it as an order, and that even over text it would influence Jesse into doing what Gabriel wanted.

Now his chest hurt, a pain that rapidly grew unbearable, emotions tumbling around inside him so fast and hard he couldn't breathe through them. So much consideration, so much care. Gabriel was nothing, nothing, _nothing_ like Jesse's last Alpha, and their relationship would be nothing alike, either. It would be the most glorious, fantastic, beautiful thing Jesse had ever encountered in his life, and nothing else could ever hope to compare to it. How could he even think to shoot himself in the foot by refusing?

His phone vibrated repeatedly in his hand. 

' _Jesse?  
you okay?   
fuck I shouldn't have said anything_'

Jesse flushed as he looked at the time stamps and realized he'd been lost in his reverie for several minutes. No wonder Gabe was worried and backpedaling. Jesse turned the phone off before any more messages could come in, fearing the next one would be an order like 'forget it, we'll never talk about it again'. Jesse had made his choice, and these words were something he needed to say in person, not over a damn text chat.

Glad he was still fully dressed, Jesse let himself silently out of Angela's quarters, then forced himself to walk at a normal pace through the hallways. The last thing they needed was for people to see him running around the base like a madman, drawing attention to the fact that he ended up in Reyes' room, starting all kinds of rumours. Not that there weren't already rumours aplenty, since people loved nothing more than gossiping about the 'ABO orgies'.

Reyes had long ago programmed Jesse's palm to the bio lock for his quarters here, since there was nothing personal kept in them and he didn't want Jesse left hanging around in the hall if Reyes was in meetings half the night. Jesse took advantage of it now, letting himself in to find Gabriel pacing back and forth across the room, as he'd expected.

The Alpha whirled at the sound of the door opening, fists up like he thought he was under attack. His scent was so full of stress and frustration and _need_ that it left Jesse gasping, and the beta crooned deep in his chest in a reflexive soothing response.   
Gabriel snarled at him. "God damn it Jesse, the whole point of this was for you _not_ to be right in front of me while we talk!"

"We did talk," Jesse said, stalking slowly towards him. "Now I'm done talking."

Gabriel held his ground; no Alpha would ever willingly back down to anyone, let alone a beta. So it was only a few short steps before they were barely a breath apart, so close Jesse could feel the bigger man's heat against him even through their clothes. So close he was enveloped in Reyes' spicy scent, a sensation that screamed to Jesse of 'home' and 'safe' and 'wanted'. Really, he damned well should have figured out what was happening between them long ago, but Jesse suspected his subconscious had refused to acknowledge it, not wanting him to fuck it up by running when he realized the truth.

Gabe was rigid with tension, muscles standing out in sharp relief as he visibly held himself back from grabbing Jesse. So Jesse did the grabbing for him, sliding his hands up his Alpha's strong chest as he closed that last inch of distance, plastering himself to the older man. "Yes," he said, because clearly Gabe needed to hear the words. "Yes, I want this. Yes, I choose you. Fucking _yes_ , so _get on with it already!_ "

The last words were perilously close to an order, except Jesse's tone was pleading, begging, whimpering with need. The answering growl that reverberated in Gabriel's chest held no anger, only dominance and power. He finally moved, grabbing Jesse's hips and hauling him close with an unbreakable iron grip that said he might never let go again. There might be bruises left in the morning, but these bruises Jesse absolutely did not mind his Alpha giving him.

Then they were kissing, wet and sloppy and passionate, and it was everything Jesse had dreamed of in those furtive, frantic jerk-off sessions in Gabriel's arms. Gabriel utterly dominated him, tongue plunging into Jesse's mouth to claim him, teeth nipping at his lower lip to mark him. Letting go of Jesse's hip on one side, Gabriel slid that hand up his back to wrap around his neck, squeezing hard enough to make Jesse melt against him, the touch firm yet oh so careful. 

Nobody had ever taken _care_ with him, of him. Even before everything went wrong, in the good times when Jesse and Mateo were just two horny teenagers discovering the fun of sex for the first time, Mateo had never been gentle with him. Most Alphas in Jesse's experience would sneer at the idea of gentleness, say it was something for betas, as if gentleness was a sign of weakness.

Now Gabriel proved to him that it was in fact a sign of strength and control. Every touch was deliberate, considered, and measured. Every stroke was both a promise and a threat, because if Gabe ever chose to _stop_ being gentle he could rip Jesse apart in a heartbeat. But Jesse trusted that he wouldn't, trusted that his Alpha would care for him as nobody else in the world ever could, and that turned the threat into the most delicious promise.

It also made Jesse wild with the need to shatter that control, to drive Gabriel as crazy as he was making Jesse, to give his Alpha so much pleasure the man would lose any ability for careful consideration. Jesse groaned, rocking his hips up against Gabriel's, grinding his cock against the gratifyingly hard length of Gabe's. How many times had he thought about doing this in those furtive late night jack-off sessions? Thought about pushing his ass back, rubbing against the heat of Gabe's body, feeling the man's thick cock nudging against Jesse's hole, driving them both insane?

Jesse was forced to break the kiss, gasping frantically for air that the room seemed to be in short supply of. He was dizzy with pleasure and need, cock throbbing so hard it would hurt to walk. A croon vibrated in his chest; for once it wasn't meant to soothe an Alpha, but rather to beg for _more_. More strength, more aggression, more _Gabriel_.

The answering growl seemed to reverberate in Jesse's bones as Gabriel ducked his head and bit at Jesse's throat, the vulnerable spot right over his carotid where the primary ABO gland lay beneath the skin. The bite stimulated it, while the primal reaction to the threat of having his throat ripped out made adrenaline surge through his body, the combination making him dizzy with need. Jesse was gasping, moaning, an incoherent string of 'please' and 'fuck' and ' _Gabriel_!'

His back hit the wall, and cool air washed over his chest a moment later as Gabriel ripped his shirt right off him. Not just popping the buttons down the front, but tearing the fabric apart with a casual strength that made Jesse weak in the knees. It was easy to forget sometimes how powerful Gabriel was, how the experiments that had been done to him had turned him into a goddamn living superhero in the flesh. The demonstration might have frightened some people, made them reconsider whether they really wanted to provoke the Alpha into losing control after all. Jesse shuddered and whined with need, cock jumping as Gabriel gave the same treatment to his combat pants, tearing the sturdy fabric of the fly like it was tissue paper. His boxers followed a moment later.

Then Gabriel shocked him stupid when the Alpha dropped to his knees, hands pinning Jesse's hips against the wall, eyeing the beta's cock with clear intent. All the breath left Jesse's chest in a rush, and he clutched at the slick strands of Gabriel's hair, hard enough it should have hurt. "Wh-wh-wh..." Jesse sputtered, then forced himself to gather his thoughts enough for actual words. "What the hell are you doin'?"

Gabriel smirked up at him, a lazy cat-got-the-canary look that all but screamed Smug Alpha. "If you're trying to tell me you've never heard of a blowjob before, I ain't buying."

Jesse scoffed. "I know _what_ you're doing, I just don't... I can't... you shouldn't... _why_?" So much for coherency. But his brain was spinning its wheels, stuck in neutral and refusing to budge past the sheer disbelief of the idea of an Alpha doing that to a beta.

"Let me guess." The smug look didn't fade, but there was a darkness living behind it, lurking in Gabe's eyes. "Everyone's always told you this is something only a beta does. That it's weak and submissive, something you do to service your Alpha. Maybe even that it's girly, with the accompanying shitty implication that women and betas are both lesser somehow." 

Jesse nodded along with each point, the words hammering spikes of squirming shame home into his heart. Back before everything went so fucking _wrong_ , the truth was Jesse had enjoyed giving blowjobs, loved the sounds and sensations, found genuine pleasure in the act. But even then, he'd certainly never expected his Alpha to return the favour. Later Mateo had mocked him for it, saying the enjoyment proved Jesse really was a beta. That 'on his knees' was exactly where Jesse belonged. That no 'real man' would want to do such a thing.

Gabriel snorted. "Well, bullshit. You're _mine_ , your body is _mine_ , and that includes every goddamn inch of it. Every bit of pleasure you can experience, every sensation I can wring out of you, all of it is _mine_ , and I will prove it by leaving you so wrecked with pleasure that you'll never doubt just who you belong to." His voice deepened as he spoke, an Alpha growl creeping into the words until they were almost too rough to understand. "I will suck you dry, and then I will fuck you stupid."

Jesse's thighs quivered, legs threatening to go out from under him, but it wasn't fear that turned his muscles to water. It was sheer lust, a burning heat of _need_ that poured down his spine and straight into his dick, all the blood rushing south until it felt like he'd explode from nothing more than hearing those words in Gabe's sexy Alpha growl. Except that would be a crying shame, because if he lost it now he wouldn't get to experience the _reality_ of those roughly sexual promises - or maybe they were threats. The most enticing threats ever uttered.

"Please," he gasped, clutching at Gabriel now not to hold the Alpha back, but because Jesse desperately needed the support. 

Gabriel's laugh was the audible equivalent of bitter chocolate - smooth, dark, and so rich you could drown in the sensation. He closed the last inches of distance to slide his mouth over Jesse's cock, engulfing him like he meant to swallow Jesse whole. He sucked hard, lashing out with his tongue at the sensitive flesh, and Jesse didn't even try to stop the cry that tore out of him.

Not letting up for a moment, Gabriel continued to devour Jesse's cock even as he shifted one hand, dropping it to fondle Jesse's balls, tugging and teasing and generally driving Jesse out of his damn mind with pleasure. He set up a rhythm; tongue lashing out across the sensitive head, fingers flicking over his sac, cheeks hollowing as he sucked like a pro. Jesse shivered, then shuddered, then shook beneath the onslaught, every thought gone from his mind except how fucking _good_ this felt. 

He tried to hold back, draw it out, keep the pleasure going as long as possible, but the battle was lost from the start. In what felt like only moments his balls drew up tight, cock throbbing with the desperate need to come. Jesse was so far gone he didn't even think to warn Gabriel, couldn't stop himself from driving his hips forward, fucking the Alpha's mouth as the explosion rolled up out of him and he came with a shout so loud his own ears rang. The orgasm went on and on, wringing him dry exactly as Gabriel had threatened to do, until Jesse didn't know up from down anymore.

Finally his legs did give out, or maybe Gabriel stopped holding him up and allowed him to collapse. Jesse slid down the wall to land in an undignified heap on the floor, gasping for air and dazed out of his mind. He pried his eyes open, only then realizing he'd closed them at some point, to find Gabriel smirking back at him with smug Alpha pride.

Well-deserved pride, Jesse had to admit. Gabriel had kept his promise - or carried out his threat - and left Jesse thoroughly wrung out with pleasure. There was indeed no doubt in his mind exactly who he belonged to now, and he was pleased as punch about it. Nothing Mateo had ever done with him had been half this amazing , not even back in the beginning.

"Yours," Jesse rasped out, because it felt like Gabriel deserved to hear the confirmation. It felt like Jesse needed to say it. "Hot damn, darlin'. That... that was..." He trailed off, unable to find words. He wasn't sure any language _had_ words to describe that experience.

"And just think, we're only getting started." Gabriel's grin turned shit-eating as Jesse groaned in response. The Alpha gathered him up, lifting Jesse as easily as another man might heft a child, and carried him over to the bed. The casual display of strength had Jesse quivering all over again. "Still think that's something only a submissive would do?"

"Nope." Gabriel had _claimed_ him, made it an act of control and possession, so thoroughly Jesse could hardly imagine how he'd ever thought otherwise. "Does... does that mean you don't want me to ever return the favour?" If anyone had asked him an hour ago, he'd have said he was glad at the thought of never getting choked by someone's dick again. For Gabriel, though, he thought he could relearn to enjoy it.

"Did I say that?" Gabriel's hands were surprisingly gentle as he laid Jesse out on the mattress, then brushed sweaty strands of hair out of Jesse's face. 'Tender' was another trait Jesse would have sworn didn't fit the image of an Alpha, yet Gabriel made it seem natural and inevitable. "It's not something I often let lovers do; I prefer to stay in control, not be that vulnerable. But for you... yeah. I trust you that much."

Jesse had never thought of it as something that required _trust_. Then again, as hard as Gabe had wrecked him, 'vulnerable' was certainly an accurate description of Jesse's state of being, so maybe he could understand. Suddenly it felt like it would be an honour to be permitted to suck Gabriel off, rather than a chore expected of a beta. "Now?"

"Is that all you want?" Gabriel knelt over him on the mattress, one eyebrow raised. He was gloriously nude; when had he stripped down? Jesse must have been more out of it than he'd realized. Without his ever-present combat gear, hair mussed and falling out of its slicked-back style, he looked softer than usual. Which was still harder and more bad-ass than most people would ever manage.

Still, his words felt like a trick question. "What do _you_ want?" Jesse returned. "You're the Alpha. Last I checked, that makes you the boss."

"Christ, don't call me that in bed," Gabriel muttered, rolling his eyes. 

"Don't call you Alpha?" Now Jesse was completely bewildered.

"Don't call me boss," Gabriel retorted. "I've already got Jack breathing down my neck about fraternizing with a subordinate. This has _nothing_ to do with me being your commander, got it?"

Jesse couldn't resist. "Sure thing... _boss_." Even as the teasing words left his lips, his shoulders hunched, half expecting a blow for his sass.

Gabriel did indeed smack him - but it was a slap on the thigh, the kind that was hard enough to sting in only the best way. "I just had to go and fall for the mouthiest asshole on the base," he muttered. "Clearly I am a glutton for punishment and enjoy being driven out of my mind. Maybe I'm the real masochist."

The idea of Gabriel enjoying being dominated was ludicrous enough to make Jesse snort, but the casual mention of him 'falling for' Jesse drew another reaction entirely. It felt like his insides melted, warmth puddling deep inside that had nothing to do with the sexual heat still charging the air between them. Being claimed was one thing, but Jesse knew all too well that being bonded didn't necessarily equal being loved. Yet Gabriel's comment implied love was on the table.

There was one more implication in the words that Jesse needed to address, though. "I ain't, you know," he warned, hands fisting in the sheets as nerves washed through him. Telling an Alpha 'no' rarely ended well in his experience, but that was effectively what he was doing in trying to set this limit. "A masochist. Got no interest in being tied up or hurt." 

Far too many people assumed that 'submissive' and 'masochist' were synonymous, and that all betas were both. Jesse had never found pain sexy, and after what had been done to him he couldn't imagine how he'd ever enjoy being tied up and helpless. Yes, he trusted Gabriel enough to bond with him, which was something else he'd never expected he'd want, but Jesse still struggled against flashbacks to what had happened with Mateo. 'Helpless' was not something he ever wanted to experience again.

"Hey." Gabriel's voice was rough, in direct contrast to the gentle touch of his hand at Jesse's nape, squeezing to draw his attention. "Jesse, look at me. Eyes here." Blinking, Jesse focused on him, only then realizing he'd gotten lost in the memories. 

Seeing that he had Jesse's attention again, Gabriel gave him a dark smile. " _Nothing_ happens that you don't want. Ever. It's a dominant's privilege to care for their submissive, and that includes not ever forcing something on you that would be harmful to you, whether that harm is physical or spiritual. I will push you to your limits, and I will prove to you that those limits are a hell of a lot farther than you ever thought they could be, but I will never force you past them. You always have the right to say 'no'. You hear me?"

"I hear you." The words came out hoarse, and Jesse wrapped his arms around Gabriel's neck, nuzzling into the curve of his neck and jaw. "I _trust_ you. Never thought I'd say that again."

"And I intend to make sure it stays that way." Gabriel released his grip on the back of Jesse's neck, stroking down over his side. "Should I apologize for that smack?"

It took Jesse's dazed brain a moment to figure out Gabriel meant the slap on the thigh in retaliation for his 'boss' crack. He flushed, arching into his Alpha's stroking hand. "Nah, that little sting don't count." There had been no hurt, no intent of harm, just the more suggestive cousin to a scolding punch on the shoulder. "Don't mind you biting, neither."

"Oh, I intend to do plenty of biting." The words were just on the safe side of a growl, sending a shiver running through Jesse that made his cock twitch with renewed interest. "Among other ways of leaving my mark on you. You're _mine_ , and everyone is damn well going to know it. Including you. I don't need to tie you down or hurt you to assert my dominance over you. I have plenty of other ways to make sure you know who you belong to."

"Oh yeah?" Lifting his hands, Jesse ran the pads of his fingers down over Gabriel's chest, enjoying the contrast of textures. Skin that was smooth, hair-roughened, or scarred, every inch a layer of velvet over the steel muscles beneath. "What ways would those be?"

"Maybe I blindfold you, so you feel everything twice as intense, and never know when or where the next touch is coming." Gabriel's hand dipped further down, stroking once over Jesse's rising cock, before continuing to explore the tight ring of his asshole. "Maybe I fuck you so hard and so long you end up walking funny all day, knowing everyone who sees you will understand exactly why. Maybe I order you not to move, then touch and tease you until you're wishing you _were_ tied down, because you know if you disobey I'll stop everything then and there but it's so goddamn hard to stay still."

Every word seemed to suck the air out of Jesse's lungs, and he couldn't draw in more no matter how his chest heaved. Or maybe he was panting _too_ much in reaction to those darkly sexual threats; all he knew was that his head was spinning and his cock was aching, fully hard again already, dripping with need as Gabriel slid one lubed finger inside him. The man had big hands, one finger thick enough to be felt, and when he pushed a second in Jesse could feel the burn of the stretch. 

In his darker moments, Jesse had worried that he'd never be able to feel pleasure in this act again. He'd feared the memories would always sweep him up, refuse to allow him to stay in the moment. Instead, it felt like Jesse's every sense was utterly consumed by awareness of Gabriel; the heat of his body pressed against Jesse's, the aggressive scent of him filling every breath Jesse took, the self-satisfied look on his face as his hand worked Jesse open... there was room for _nothing_ else in Jesse's mind.

"Yes," Jesse gasped, twisting and writhing beneath his Alpha's touch. He realized he was digging his fingers into Gabriel's shoulders hard enough it surely had to hurt, but the bigger man didn't seem displeased.

"Yes, what?" Gabriel teased him, finger curving to find Jesse's prostate, making him shout with pleasure. "Yes, touch you this way? Yes, do those things I just described?"

Words had never been so damned hard, but Jesse managed to dredge up a few brain cells to rub together. "All of it!" His back arched, nearly coming up off the bed as he tried to get more of Gabriel's touch.

"What, all those things at once?" Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Might be a bit much to take." He withdrew his hand, laughing as Jesse cussed him out for the sudden feeling of emptiness. "How about we start with the basics."

Catching one of Jesse's feet, Gabriel slid his hand up over the calf in a long stroke that felt surprisingly intimate, before hooking Jesse's knee over his shoulder. Then he leaned forward, pushing Jesse's thigh to his chest, all but folding him in half as Gabriel lined up his cock with Jesse's ass. The strain of the position was nothing compared to the burn in his ass as Gabriel pushed home, smooth and steady. Jesse breathed deep, forcing himself to stay relaxed, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head from the pleasure when the tip of Gabriel's cock drove against his prostate.

When he was all the way in Gabriel paused, making Jesse groan with frustration. "Jesse? You with me?" Gabriel peered down at him, brow furrowed.

Jesse blinked, feeling almost drugged with pleasure, and realized he'd been staring into nothing as he processed the intense sensations. Gabriel must have thought he'd gotten lost in traumatic memories again, and stopped to check in. If Jesse hadn't already been convinced of the massive difference between Mateo and Gabriel, that would have cinched it; Gabriel really was as concerned with Jesse's pleasure as he was with his own. It wasn't just about getting the Alpha off.

Words were _definitely_ beyond him this time, so Jesse wound his arms around Gabriel's neck and surged up, catching the older man's mouth in a fierce kiss. At the same time he squeezed hard with his inner muscles, clamping down around the throbbing cock in buried deep in his body. Gabriel groaned and took over the kiss, tongue plunging into Jesse's mouth in echo of his cock.

Then he _moved_ , hips pumping as he thrust into Jesse's body again and again, so deep and hard and fast that Jesse thought he might fly apart under the onslaught. It was forceful and dominant but not rough, not hurtful. As he'd promised, Gabriel was pushing the limits without going over them, riding the fine line where pleasure was so intense it almost became pain, but was the best thing Jesse had ever experienced in his life.

All Jesse could do was cling to his Alpha and hang on for the ride, his whole body throbbing in response to Gabriel's touch. Jesse never wanted this to end; so much so that when Gabriel snaked a hand between them to fist Jesse's cock, Jesse tried to beg him not to. All that came out was a garbled groan that sounded nothing at all like a protest.

It felt like only moments before his balls began to ache, a tingling sensation building in the base of his cock. Jesse's breathing sped up, spine arching as he rocked into the thrusts, straining for the peak even as he fought against it. "Gabe..." he gasped out, both a warning and a plea.

"Not yet," Gabriel growled, the vibration of it shivering through Jesse in a visceral reaction. His scent was already wrapped around Jesse like an invisible blanket, but now it took on the steel tone of an order. "You don't come until I tell you to."

"Gabe!" This time the name was a protest, Jesse writhing as he struggled to hold back the onrushing tide. "I can't... I can't..." Order or not, there was no way he could stop the inevitable, the tingling spreading up the shaft of his cock, balls tight and heavy with the need to come.

"You can, and you will," Gabriel insisted. His strokes grew faster, sharper, with more force behind each thrust, as if to emphasize his words. "Not until I say so, Jesse."

Frantic with the need to obey, Jesse whined as he struggled against his own body. Every muscle was so tense he was shaking, an electric sensation creeping up his spine as the need to come built and built, gasping for each breath like all the air had fled the room.

Just when he thought he would surely lose his mind, Gabriel squeezed his dick extra hard. "Now," snapped the Alpha, the full force of his pheromones backing the order, so that the word impacted Jesse like a lightning strike to the chest.

Orgasm smashed into him, sticky white strands of semen surging out of his cock in waves of ecstasy. He'd heard it described as an 'explosion' all his life, but this was the first time the word felt like the _only_ possible description, a literal blast starting deep in his groin and blowing up inside him. It seemed to go on and on, wringing him dry, until finally he collapsed limp and helpless on the bed.

Above him Gabriel grunted, his massive body locked in place as he spent his seed in Jesse's body. Jesse swore he could feel the throbbing spurts deep within him, so hot it was scorching. Panting and lightheaded, he sprawled beneath Gabriel, as sated and content as he could ever remember being.

"Mine," Gabriel growled once more, as he withdrew and slid to one side, curling around Jesse's body the same way they'd slept for so many nights now. "You're fucking mine, Jesse McCree. I never thought I wanted to bond, but be damned if I can remember why I ever fought it."

"It never felt like this before," Jesse admitted, the words coming out in a hoarse whisper. "Not even at the best of times. I'm yours... and you're mine." His voice shook as he staked his claim on his Alpha in turn - it was a statement Mateo would never have allowed, because 'possession' implied 'domination'. If Gabriel rejected it...

"Goddamned right, I'm yours," Gabriel replied without hesitation. Jesse blew out a breath, and Gabriel gave a low, dark chuckle. "Thought I'd object? This is a two way street, Jesse. I'm all in, and you'd better be just as committed. There's no going back from this, for either of us."

"I wouldn't want to back out," Jesse promised, turning to snuggle in closer to his Alpha. He closed his eyes, soaking in the warmth and scent. "I'm all in too, darlin'. I promise." This was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he couldn't imagine ever wanting it to end.


	10. Chapter 10

The research wing of Overwatch Headquarters wasn't a place where Jesse spent much time. He knew Angela had a lab in here, but the omega usually met with him at her office in the infirmary nearby, not in her working space. The fact that it was Gabriel who'd sent the message asking Jesse to meet him there made the request even more baffling. He strolled on up to the second floor, found the room the message had indicated, and knocked politely.

"Enter," Gabe's voice came through the door a moment later. When Jesse pushed it open, the Alpha glanced over and nodded. "There you are. Come here and take a look at our newest teammate."

Next to Reyes, Commander Morrison stood tall and strong and intimidating. The two of them together looked like something out of a comic book, supersoldiers in the literal sense of the word. Morrison nodded at Jesse as well, acknowledging him, and Jesse gave the Commander a brief salute in return. Morrison might be a normal human, but he held himself like an Alpha, and Jesse respected the hell out of the man. There was nobody else in the room, but the two Commanders stood next to a wall that was mostly glass, looking out over a larger space beyond.

When Jesse came up next to Gabriel, he could finally see down into the training room below. It was much smaller than the battle simulators used for training by the rest of the base, and the computers and monitors and readouts all over the place in this observation room made it clear the training area was for testing the research projects being developed in this wing. At the moment, what was being tested wasn't a piece of equipment, it was a dark-haired man in a partial suit of armour, slicing his way through a mass of enemy bots with a _sword_ , of all things.

And doing a damn impressive job of it, at that. Jesse whistled in appreciation as the guy cut through three bots at once, an inescapable whirlwind of death. His movements were fluid and graceful, almost like dancing, except that his dance partners crashed to the floor in pieces. 

When a more distant bot opened fire on him with a submachine gun, the guy fucking _deflected_ the bullets with his blade, then made a tossing motion with his right hand and the bot keeled over, smoke trailing from its sparking circuitry. Looking closer, Jesse saw tiny metal objects sticking out of the bot's 'head'.

"Hot damn," Jesse murmured, thoroughly impressed. "Who'd have thought you'd see somebody winning a fight with a sword and knives in this day and age?"

"That's nothing," Gabriel chuckled, a husky sound that made warmth curl through Jesse's body. "You should see it when he whips out his dragon."

"His what now?" Jesse tipped his hat back and stared up at his Alpha, certain his leg was being pulled.

"Some kind of energy weapon," Morrison put in dryly. "He won't give us the details, but it certainly works well enough. The cybernetics make him fast, strong, and all but tireless, and his own skills make him a deadly force to be reckoned with. I'd be fighting you to keep him on my teams, but even I can't deny he's too perfectly suited to Blackwatch."

"He's a cyborg ninja, of course he's coming to Blackwatch," Gabriel snorted. "He'll fit right in."

"Wait, that's not armour?" Jesse stared down at the man, taking in the strange amalgamation of tech and bare flesh. All the bots were in pieces, and the man - a ninja, seriously? - sheathed his sword with a casual gesture, then turned to look up at the observation room. His eyes had a hellish red glow to them, suggesting they weren't natural either, and the rest of his face was hidden by a metal mask. "It can't _all_ be cybernetics, that's impossible. Nobody can have that many implants."

"He's lucky to be alive, and the doc had to damn near reinvent cybernetic science to keep him that way," Gabriel said. "What do you think?"

It warmed Jesse that his Alpha cared enough about his opinion to ask for it. Not that Jesse had any _say_ about whether this guy joined their team, but he knew Gabe would take his feelings into account. To be honest, Jesse wasn't entirely sure how comfortable he was with this potential new teammate. 

"You sure it's a good idea to bring in another Alpha?" he asked. "I thought you dominant types usually had trouble working together." Jesse couldn’t scent him through the glass, but there was something about the arrogance in the newcomer’s eyes, the assurance in his posture, that made Jesse's instincts scream 'Alpha'.

"He's normal," Gabriel replied, startling Jesse. "I know, I had the same thought, but there's no hint of ABO scent on him, and he’s old enough to have fully manifested. He's certainly got the aggression and the attitude, though.”

“Not uncommon in the military,” Morrison pointed out. “Plenty of people assume I’m an Alpha.”

Reyes nodded. “Doesn’t really matter, in the end. Either he'll obey orders, or he catches shit for it like anyone else."

The man below continued to stare up at them, seeming to meet Jesse's eyes as if in challenge. Every instinct Jesse had demanded that he look down or away, submit to that challenge, but he made himself keep his gaze steady. If the guy really wasn't an Alpha, then Jesse didn't want the man getting the idea he could push Jesse around, or intimidate him. Hopefully he wasn't one of those people who thought betas were _lesser_.

Something drew the man's attention, and he turned away at last. Jesse saw Angela Ziegler had entered the training room, datapad in hand and a fond smile on her face. Jesse knew from personal experience that the omega's professional manner was so sweet and endearing, her patients couldn't help but adore her - yet the cyborg's back remained ramrod straight, his tense posture easing not in the slightest, though he inclined his head to her politely enough. That alone seemed to prove he wasn’t an Alpha - no Alpha could resist the soothing effect of an omega standing so close to them.

Plus, if the guy was an Alpha, Angela wouldn't be nearly so open and friendly with him. Certainly she'd never have reached out to casually brush her hand against the guy's arm in a gesture of warm affection; her wariness of Alphas was all but legendary. The cyborg nodded to whatever she'd said, and followed her out of the room.

A minute later the pair entered the observation room, and Jesse drew a deep, instinctive breath of Angela's scent. Beside him Reyes did the same, the impulse reflexive, both of them savouring the caramel sweetness. She smiled at them, knowing they were doing it. "Commander Morrison. Commander Reyes. Jesse, it's good to see you."

"Always good to see you too, doc." Jesse tipped his hat, grinning back at her with genuine delight. 

Beside her, the cyborg gave a shallow bow, his eerie red eyes vigilant as if he expected to be attacked at any moment. "Commanders," he said, his deep voice echoing with odd harmonics, almost like an omnic. Up close, Jesse saw that the man's throat was metal, so maybe his voice was artificial as well?

Reyes made the introductions. "Genji Shimada, this is Jesse McCree, the other member of my team. The two of you technically hold the same rank, but McCree has seniority, so I expect you to listen to him. He is a beta; if that's going to be a problem, tell me now."

The red gaze fell squarely on Jesse, measuring and judging him. With the inhuman eyes and the mask covering most of his face, it was impossible to read Genji's expression. When he spoke again, his voice was flat, giving no clue to his thoughts or feelings. "It will not be a problem."

Jesse held out his hand. "Pleasure to meet you." After a long moment of hesitation, Genji accepted his handshake. The cyborg's grip was strong and steady, but not overwhelming or hard enough to cause any discomfort. Jesse relaxed at that sign of respect. Usually, the dicks who were likely to be assholes about him being a beta tried to dominate him right from the start. "I'm sure we'll get along just fine."

"I am not here to make friends." Genji's tone was dismissive, almost abrupt, and he dropped Jesse's hand. "I am here to train, and fight, and grow stronger. That is all that matters."

Jesse shrugged, unsure what to make of that statement. He didn't _need_ to be friends with his teammates, he supposed. He just needed them not to treat him like garbage for being a beta, and this one wasn't. Still, the rejection stung.

A strong hand closed around the nape of his neck, Gabe's familiar rough grip and warm skin causing an instant positive reaction. Jesse sighed, and the tension ran out of him. He knew Gabriel was doing it as a claiming gesture, making it clear to the newbie that Jesse was taken, but he still found it pleasant and reassuring. He saw Genji's eyebrows creep up in response to the gesture.

"McCree and I are bonded," Gabriel explained, squeezing gently. "The dynamics in our team will be a bit different from what you're probably used to, as a result."

Genji inclined his head. "I have little experience with..." he hesitated, then said something long and foreign sounding.

"I’m guessing you mean ABOs," Angela put in helpfully. "That's the English short form of Alpha, beta, omega."

Nodding his thanks for the translation, Genji continued. "I have little experience with ABOs, but I will learn as I go. I appreciate being given this chance, considering my background and my injuries. I promise, I will not fail you in any way."

"I don't doubt it." Reyes sounded distinctly smug, and when Jesse glanced up, he saw a satisfied smirk on his Alpha's lips. Well, who could blame him? How often did you get a chance to recruit a real live ninja assassin for a black ops team, let alone a powerful cyborg one? "Looking forward to working with you, Shimada."

"And you, Commander Reyes. McCree." 

There was still not even a hint of warmth in the man's tone, but Jesse decided to take that as a challenge. Angela seemed quite fond of the guy, and she was a damn good judge of character, so he couldn't be _that_ frigid. Maybe Genji just needed time to warm up to strange folks. Jesse could certainly understand that.

"I'm sure we'll be one big, happy family," Jesse chuckled. "Can't wait to get started."


End file.
